Albus Potter and the Sandblood Rising
by NoahPhantom
Summary: Book 3/7. COMPLETE! They call themselves Sandbloods. They're Squibs; less than Mudbloods, their magic dried up, like mud to sand. They've targeted the Potters. Unaware of this, and eager to learn to use two wands, Albus enters his third year. But why is he now one of the worst students? If he can't do the simplest spells, how will he fight the Sandblood Rising? Book 4 in progress!
1. Dangerous Games

_**-READING THE FIRST TWO INSTALLMENTS TO THIS SERIES IS NECESSARY-**_

* * *

_**Okay, it's time for the third book! PLEASE read these short few announcements.**_

_**Character blurbs are now on my profile, at the very bottom. If you wish to read a little more about some of the characters, or if you want a nice way to keep track of who's who, you should visit and see. There's a lot of original characters-and a lot of original information-so, if you don't want to have to keep track of so much, you really don't. I'll reintroduce people, and concepts, when they become important.**_

_**If you like my story, favorite or follow or review to tell me so! Hopefully all three! I'd really appreciate it. Can this story get over a hundred favorites or follows? If it does, I'll freak out with happiness. I'll... I'll do double uploads for a month. :D**_

_**No, seriously. If we get over 100 favorites and over 100 follows, on Albus Potter and the Sandblood Rising, before I upload the next book, then I will upload TWO CHAPTERS A WEEK for the next FOUR weeks. So, recommend this story to your friends if you like it! I'll give you a hint... you probably like it if you're still with me on Book 3! :D**_

_**Hope you like this next installment, too! **__**Enjoy!**_

* * *

ALBUS POTTER AND THE SANDBLOOD RISING

CONTENTS

O

CHAPTER ONE

Dangerous Games

O

CHAPTER TWO

Diwandology

O

CHAPTER THREE

The Exchange

O

CHAPTER FOUR

Shift of the Spotlight

O

CHAPTER FIVE

Perfect Little Lucas Lotor

O

CHAPTER SIX

The Subterrestrial Express

O

CHAPTER SEVEN

Turning the Tables

O

CHAPTER EIGHT

Land, Sea, and Sky

O

CHAPTER NINE

Destroying the World

O

CHAPTER TEN

Warmer than Butterbeer

O

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Sandblood Rising

O

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Headmaster's Haunt

O

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Siege Drills and Secrets

O

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Operation Albus Severus Potter

O

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Shatterbolt and Frostflame

O

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Spy

O

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Marionette's Medicine

O

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A Taste of the Action

O

* * *

O

CHAPTER ONE

DANGEROUS GAMES

O

"I remember my first Quidditch World Cup," said the tall and muscular man, gazing with his weary black eyes into the sun setting behind the stands in the Quidditch stadium. His jet-black hair was thinner than it was a few short years ago, and streaks of gray were starting to snake through it. He took a deep breath and looked around at all the people, perfectly content with their lives, not troubled in the slightest. He continued. "When I was just three years old, my father took me to the match of Spain vs. Germany. It's one of my earliest memories."

"I heard about that one," said his companion, a slightly younger man, shorter but with the look of a nimble athlete. His tan eyes were precisely the same color as his tan hair and the tan robes of the Peruvian team, which was now taking the field. "Wasn't that supposedly one of the weakest mutual Keeper performances in Quidditch World Cup history?"

"It certainly was," said the taller man. "Two thousand eight hundred and ninety to two thousand nine hundred and sixty. Spain just couldn't pull ahead enough to get that hundred and fifty point lead to ensure a win even without the Snitch."

"Wish I'd been there," said the shorter man, "but my parents hadn't even thought of having me yet, let alone tossing me out of the house."

"I _idolized_ those players," admitted the first man. "Even at that age, I could not wait to get my very own broomstick, play for the _Hogwarts_ team—" he spat the name "Hogwarts" as if it were a horrific slur— "and then move on to play for whichever team picked me up, because I was sure to be a prodigy. Little did I know that I wouldn't even be able to fly a broom."

The second man remained quiet, as if giving this sad story a moment of silence.

"I went to Argentina vs. France four years later when I was seven," he went on. "I remember that one much better. I was still waiting to fly my own broom and start training. Then I went to Brazil vs. Australia when I was eleven, and I did _not_ attend Hogwarts that year."

He seemed to be on the verge of getting violent; his lip curled up in a snarl. His companion edged slightly away.

"Then, banished," he finished. "Banished to live with Muggles. Worse than a blood traitor, worse than a Mudblood. A _Squib._" He shook his head. "But I could never fit in to the Muggle community." He then threw his head back and laughed. "What kind of Muggle gets named 'Maskorn Malseth?' The looks I got when I told people my name…"

"I never had that problem, but I know it's been one," chuckled the other man. "'Palmer Viller' wasn't awful. At least my parents got _that_ right."

"Not that anything would help the disgrace of being cast amongst Muggles," said Malseth. "A dreadful fate… but one that is still too good for most of Wizardkind, who continue to gladly turn their backs upon our predicament."

"Who do we kill first?" asked Viller lazily.

"As many as we can," responded Malseth under his breath. He turned to Viller. "Which may be zero if you continue yelling our plans to murder people in the middle of a crowded stadium surrounded by wizards."

"They're paying no attention, there's a Quidditch match going on," protested Viller. "Besides, wizards are idiots."

"There's that," admitted Malseth. "So our first targets should have to be the less idiotic ones. The ones who pose the most danger to our eventual plans."

"What do we do about Auchland?" asked Viller.

Malseth burst out in coarse laughter. "Oh, why would we kill Obydin Auchland?" he answered quietly when the fans around them returned to watching the game. "Why would we kill the man who's doing us so many favors? He's entirely ignoring the threat we pose—he, like so many others, underestimates the power of the organized Squibs, by failing to notice our little shape-shifting advantage. No, Auchland can stay—they'll be booting him out soon, anyway. In the meantime, he's not prioritizing our capture, even after the miserable failure that Levi's crew experienced in their simple mission last June."

"Killing a wizard," noted Viller, "is _never_ a simple mission."

"That is exactly the sort of mentality we need to eliminate," retorted Malseth. "Wizards, though they would deny it, are exactly the same as Squibs. We have the same potential for damage and destruction if we can attain it. Wizards are just as flimsy as any other type of human being. They will bleed if you strike them hard enough, they will break if you strike them hard enough, they will die if you strike them hard enough. And they will scream while you carve out their eyes, apparently, if my past experience is anything to go on."

Viller chuckled at this horrible image.

"Killing the people we want to kill will certainly not be _easy_," said Malseth. "I won't allege that. It's the battle for the world, though, that will be no small task."

"You really think we can do it, then?" said Viller in awe.

"We've got Slade," said Malseth. "Caradoc Slade will be all we need, especially since it's on his own free will. He's got links to Auchland—or, I should say, whoever replaces him in the near future—and even Weasley. The link to the Minister is crucial."

"Merlin, am I glad it's not Shacklebolt we have to deal with," said Viller. "I wouldn't want to cross _him_."

"Do not dare underestimate Weasley," warned Malseth. "You must have heard the tales of his performance following the injuries that caused Shacklebolt to be indisposed as Minister, necessitating that Weasley take his place."

"I remember the story well. Shacklebolt put together a rescue mission, which he personally headed, to save five of his kidnapped Aurors. Weasley accompanied him. The Aurors numbered twenty and they did not realize that the enemy was fifty. It was the last organized sect of Death Eaters yet to be captured. Shacklebolt freed his Aurors and guarded all of them while they escaped, but he was distracted by the appearance of Dementors and almost fatally wounded by a Dark curse. Most of their men fled and escaped with the rescued Aurors, but Weasley stayed to defend Shacklebolt, and he singlehandedly incapacitated all of the twenty-one remaining combatants. One against twenty-one—although, of course, Shacklebolt was firing curses from the floor. One and a half against twenty-one, and Weasley came out without a scratch."

"Exactly," said Malseth. "Which is why we need to remain cautious."

"When do you think we'll have the chance to take him out?"

"That is yet to be determined. And it's going to be extremely difficult to get others in the Ministry under our control, even with one on our side. It's just unfortunate that MM refuses to dissolve in other liquids, otherwise Slade could just slip it to them."

"What, you think that people would get suspicious if Slade was vomiting into peoples' mouths in the office?" asked Viller innocently.

"But some idiot unaffiliated with us attempted to poison a Ministry official," said Malseth, ignoring his companion's inanity. "I just hope that isn't what finally snaps Auchland into motion."

"I'd say no," said Viller. "He didn't even get very concerned after Levi got caught trying to kill the Potters."

"I regret Levi's death," said Malseth. "The man took his suicide poison pill with honor. I am very glad he followed through on that. It's something all of us should do, if ever captured… it takes away the possibility that they will discover the crux of our plan through the capture of one individual. But all the same, I regret Levi's death. We should have sent someone under MM, whom we wouldn't have cared about losing."

"But then they may have been able to test his systems and deduce that MM is involved," said Viller. "I do so enjoy keeping the wizards in the dark about whether or not we're using it."

"The Marionette's Medicine _is_ our most powerful ally," agreed Malseth. "You're right, I wouldn't want the secret out… not that it would ruin us, but it would make for a more dangerous game. With MM, whether or not they know we have it, we will control wizards. With MM, we will control the world."

"_We_ don't control the world," corrected Viller. "_He_ does. Our supplier. The Man in the Shadows. The man with the plan who got us the mulunctapoli in the first place." He scratched his chin. "Of course, we can always kill him later."

Malseth laughed again. "Yes, and Slade, too. We won't need him, eventually."

"But I'm fine with the position I've currently got, if we had the world now," stated Viller. "Maybe we'll each get a continent. We don't really _have_ to kill Slade and the Man in the Shadows."

"World domination is a dirty business," said Malseth. "We use them for their resources, but then we have to kill _them_ before they kill _us._"

"You'd never kill _me,_ would you?" asked Viller.

Malseth shook his head. "Our partnership is different. I've known you for almost a lifetime. You helped me start this. You're my second-in-command; you're the kind of capable leader I'll need in the future. Him? I've never even seen his face."

Viller remained quiet for a moment, watching enviously as wizards zipped around the field on their Soundsplitters. Then he spoke up again.

"And how will we go about conquering the world?"

"By making ourselves known," replied Malseth. "The prestige will follow, and so will the power. We do a good job, and others want to help us."

"What job is that?"

"But we've already said it," said Malseth. "That job is to take out the main threats to our success."

"Then who's first?"

"You ask too many questions," said Malseth, rolling his eyes. "And the answer to that one… is obvious."

He cast his glance up to the Top Box. He was looking at the Potters.

"We'll have to be careful," he said. "We've already failed once."

O

"Harry, will you calm down?" pleaded Ginny. "Really. Nothing is going to happen. Watch the bloody game."

"I can't be calm," said Harry, looking left and right. "Every time I try to focus on the game by clearing my mind, the only thing that remains in my mind is vivid memories of Muggle bodies contorting in the air at the last Quidditch World Cup."

"_Your children don't need to hear that!_" hissed Ginny, though Albus was listening intently to every word they said. "It's time to sit back, not think about that, and enjoy the game. You're off-duty, and there are _dozens and dozens_ of people on-duty for precisely that reason. Because of what happened at the '94 World Cup, security is better than ever."

"That," said Harry, "is exactly why I'm so nervous. What if some nut-job wants to do something now specifically for the express purpose of proving that he can get past security? Someone might want to show off by making a scene, proving they could make it past the guards."

"But they Capped everyone's wands," Ginny reminded him. "Your wand isn't going to work until you leave, so if anything happens, you can't prevent it anyway."

Harry smirked and snapped his fingers. A ball of blue flame appeared in his hand for a moment before sputtering out.

"I'm working on that fact," said Harry.

He already looked tired from only that much wandless magic.

"But _you,_" he said excitedly, turning to Albus, "are going to be learning much more than that, aren't you? You're going to be trained in Wandless Magic next year!"

"Yeah," said Albus with a grin. "I don't know how far we'll go in it, though. Wandless Magic is supposed to be extremely difficult."

"Do you know who your Wandless Magic professor is?" asked Ginny.

Albus couldn't remember the name from the parchment. "No," he said curiously.

"His name's Jeff Skower," laughed Ginny. "Would-be heir to Mrs. Skower's cleaning product franchise!"

"Mrs. Who's what?" asked James, looking over.

Ginny pointed up at the large billboard, which now displayed an advertisement for Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. It read, "_No pain, no stain!_"

James laughed. "Your new teacher's a maid, Al?"

"No, it's her son," said Harry. "But didn't he get cut off from the family?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "Mrs. Skower spent too much time with her business and not enough time with her son. Jeffrey contaminated all of her products with undiluted Bubotuber pus in retaliation, and she disowned him after sales plummeted due to customers receiving giant yellow boils. They had a job recovering from that blow to their business, and I guess Jeffrey had to turn to teaching to support himself, now that he wasn't a gigagalleonaire."

"You'll have to tell us all about your Wandless Magic class, Al," said Harry. "Well, tell us about all of them, but Wandless Magic especially. You'll have to do some for us over the Christmas holidays."

Albus reddened. There went those giant expectations, yet again. "I don't know if we'll be able to _do_ anything wandlessly by break," said Albus. "I'll do whatever I know, though."

He stuffed his eyes back into the Omnioculars and cheered as Peru scored. He didn't really have a preference—neither he nor his family had any connections to Peru or to China—but he did always enjoy seeing a competitive game. And it didn't hurt being in the Top Box.

"I've been thinking," said Harry.

Ginny groaned. "I hope you've been thinking about Quidditch, because that's really all I want to talk about at the moment."

"No, I was thinking about the Auror Office, and Auchland," said Harry. "About… change in general, I guess."

"Are you going to go all philosophical on us during the _Quidditch World Cup?_"

"Well, yes," said Harry. "We're all here now, aren't we? I was just thinking. Why did Wizardkind employ the global revelation? Why did we do it, from a holistic point of view? I think the wizarding world is becoming a little too volatile. Too quick to change… After centuries of… of parchment, and candlesticks, and owls… we started _changing_ things. First it was the Hogwarts Express and the other fractional platforms—platform six and a third, which we took to get here, for example, was introduced shortly afterwards with a few others. Then it was the Knight Bus and the Loch Stock Liner shortly after. After that, there were some more changes. Through further interactions with the Muggle world, getting closer to them and taking some ideas from them for the first time since our worlds were yet to be separated, we introduced what I think is a highly Muggle mentality, which is that if something is broken, you have to _change_ it, not fix it. If at first you don't succeed, you must be doing it wrong. If the government isn't working, it's time for a new party… or a new government. Things weren't working out with secrecy, so we had a global revelation. Things aren't working out perfectly now, either, but it's too late, and we can't go back because we didn't really think it through quite enough before we got ourselves neck-deep in HOLY SH—DID YOU SEE THAT FEINT FROM GUIRREZ!"

"_That's_ more like it," said Ginny, finally relaxing.

Guirrez, the Peruvian Seeker, had taken a sharp dive at the ground from only about fifty feet high, and the Chinese seeker Lam had followed immediately. Guirrez pulled out of his dive a foot before he crashed, but Lam was not so fortunate.

"Oof," said Ginny, watching Lam get lifted off the field. "Quidditch can be a really dangerous game sometimes."

"They're going to have to treat him," said Harry, grimacing and smiling in approval at the same time. "Guirrez is going to have a clear field for a while. Maybe this Chinese juggernaut really is going to fall. I've heard predictions in equal amounts both ways for this Cup. First time in a while that there hasn't been at least a slight favorite. Personally, I always thought China was going to clean up house, but now that I'm watching Guirrez, he might alone be giving them a shot, since Peru's Chasers are good enough to keep up but were never good enough to pull away too much from the Chinese…"

Ginny looked very content now that Harry was absorbed in the game, and Albus felt the tension dissipating.

Albus tuned in to a conversation that was taking place behind him. The whole Weasley family was in the Top Box around them, and his aunts and uncles were chatting.

"So, Bill," Aunt Audrey was saying. "Tell me about your kids. What are Victoire and Dominique up to now that they've graduated?"

"Victoire's moved in with Teddy," said Uncle Bill with a knowing smirk. "She's undergoing Auror training at the moment. She and Teddy both. I hear Teddy's doing phenomenally well with his absurdly potent Metamorphmagus abilities. Dominique has been in Paris already, translating English and Gobbledegook and a few others for the French government, keeping very busy. She didn't think she was going to be able to get time off for the Cup, but she did some sweet-talking… in six languages."

"Is Louis seeing anyone at the moment?"

"Yes, Flavia Marillo…"

"Oh, of course, I did meet her. Percy knew her parents. She's _gorgeous,_ isn't she? And she was such a tomboy for a while!"

"Molly still seeing Dyson?"

"Oh, yes. It's not very serious yet, but it could be."

"And has Lucy mentioned anyone?"

"She's _mentioned_ a boy named Kat, but I have yet to meet said boy."

Albus directed his attention back to the Quidditch match as the stadium shook with the roar of the crowd: Guirrez had seen the Snitch, and this time, it was no feint. Lam wasn't even back in the action yet.

The Chinese ambassadors who were with them in the Top Box were anguishing as Guirrez sped up towards the sky, arm outstretched. The Peruvian government officials were jumping up and down. Below, Lam threw off the mediwizards who were giving him treatment and lunged for his broom to take off into the air with one arm hanging limply at his side, apparently broken.

Guirrez turned sharply back towards the ground and then lunged in the direction opposite from Lam. The Chinese Seeker sped off in pursuit of the Snitch and, after adjusting his angle when Guirrez took a sharp ninety-degree turn, ended up colliding with Guirrez in midair in a spectacular crash. Their brooms splintered and their robes billowed as they plummeted to the ground, but Lam was holding something triumphantly.

They slammed into the grass below, but Lam stood up immediately on one leg and raised the Snitch into the air. The Chinese officials exploded with glee and began hugging each other as the crowd erupted with half cheers and half disappointed moans.

Harry clapped appreciatively. "I don't even believe it," he laughed. "Lam got back onto his broom with a broken leg and a broken arm to get to the Snitch!"

"China wins," said Ginny, nodding, just as impressed as her husband. "I expected it. They're too good and they take these competitions _very_ seriously."

"All right, let's beat the crowd," said Harry, and they hopped up to exit the stadium.

"Guess what, dear?" said Ginny as they climbed down endless stairs to the ground level.

"Yes?"

"_Nothing happened!_"

Harry chuckled only half-heartedly. "Yes, nothing happened _yet_."

They took a long walk to the limousine which had been arranged for them by the Greek government. On the way out of the stadium, World Cup security personnel took their wands and removed the device on the top which prevented them from being used. They called the devices "Caps;" they looked like little gumdrops. When Albus had his Cap removed, he felt magic surge through his wand again.

"You want to look around for a bit before we go?" asked Harry, more to Ginny than anyone else. "See the Parthenon and all? It's not every day you're right outside Athens."

"I'd rather get back to the house," said Ginny wearily.

"You don't want to see more of the beautiful Greek countryside?"

"I just want to get home before someone starts shooting at us."

"Understood," said Harry, and they continued walking until they approached their limousine. The driver stuck his head out the door to call to them.

"Mr. Potter," he said, looking apologetic. "Apparently the Athens Station is being evacuated due to a, er, bomb threat."

Ginny moaned at the sky as the other Weasleys caught up with them.

"Closest magical rail station is in Thessaloniki," continued the driver, "but it's not exactly a hop, skip, and a jump away. What would you like me to do?"

"Oh… just take us to the seaside, then," said Harry.

"The seaside? Fancying a beach trip?"

"No, I think we'll take the LSL. Faster than the train."

The driver nodded. "Ah, of course. The LSL. Expensive, but you're right; that would be much faster than it would be to drive to Thessaloniki. The ocean it is."

"What's the LSL, Dad?" asked James.

"The Loch Stock Liner," replied Harry.

"Oh," said James. "What's the Loch Stock Liner?"

"A wizard-run public transportation system," said Rose, popping up behind James. "It's really awesome. It navigates using sensors that detect the magical hubs of the world and then the ship extrapolates its position using its relative location to London, New York, and Hong Kong. It'll take you anywhere that borders a sizeable body of water if you know how to call it."

"Thank you, Dictionary, have you seen Rose?" quipped James, giving her a playful punch on the shoulder.

They all climbed into the limousine.

"Oh, did I mention that Aubrey almost got poisoned at the office last week?" said Ron casually to his wife as they settled in last and closed the door.

"_What?_" said Hermione and Ginny together as the limo started to move.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that one, too," said Harry. "Too much has been happening to remember all of it."

"This seems rather important!" said Ginny. "Not that I'm a big fan of Aubrey, but if someone's trying to _kill_ him, that still seems worthy of a mention!"

"It was a feeble attempt, his pumpkin juice was tinged green," scoffed Ron. "If anyone had fallen for _that,_ they really shouldn't be an Auror anyway. What an amateur assassin. If I wanted to poison anyone right now, they'd be _dead,_ believe me."

"That's not true," observed Harry. "You've told me multiple times how much you want to poison Auchland."

"Good," said Hermione. "Someone ought to. I'm not one for violence, but this man… he makes me want to strangle cute animals, and that's _saying_ something, for _me_. Did he finally get concerned due to the fact that someone in his office was poisoned?"

"Nope," said Ron, and all the adults in the room shared a similar look of outrage. "Nah, he just said that it was an 'isolated incident.' That's his favorite phrase now. 'Isolated incident.' _This_ was an 'isolated incident…' _That_ was an 'isolated incident…' I'm going to give him an 'isolated incident' right in the face the next time he says that."

The family continued to verbally abuse Auchland until the limo rolled to a stop in front of a large cliff.

"Here we are, the Aegean Sea," said the driver, opening the door for them. "You have fun, now, and have a safe trip. It was excellent meeting you, Harry Potter!"

Harry gave a grateful wave and they began to descend towards the sea down a path carved into the side of the cliff.

Albus stared at the limo as it rolled away. Even in Greece, everyone knew his father. Harry had defeated Voldemort—he was world-famous.

Something that Albus had wondered ever since he'd learned about his father's fame probed its way back into his mind again. What exactly must it have felt like to defeat Voldemort? To know that you had just struck down the one who had caused so much grief, and that you had helped the world return to peace? He had never asked his father, because he had a feeling it was an emotion that couldn't be put into words.

The Potters and Weasleys gathered at the edge of the sea.

"Everybody here?" asked Harry. "We didn't leave anyone behind?" He waded ankle-deep into the sea, bent down, and tapped his wand gently three times on the surface of the water.

The ground pulsed as if a giant heart had just pumped under the rock. The water swirled for a moment and then crested—a bulge in the water burst and a giant black ship exploded from the waves, surfacing mere feet from the shore. A rope ladder was tossed from the side, and someone on the deck waved to them.

Harry waved back, and headed for the rope ladder. The rest of the family followed.

"It looks like ze Durmstrang ship," commented Aunt Fleur.

"That's because the Loch Stock Liner was modeled after the Durmstrang ship," said Uncle Percy as they waded through the water to get to the ladder. "It was a source of a lot of controversy, actually—apparently someone from the inside of Durmstrang illegally sold the secrets of the ship to a Scottish developer."

Albus climbed the ladder, excited for this novel trip. He reached the top of the ship and pulled himself over with James and Harry grabbing his arms to help. He stood up to his full height to have a look around the barge.

The masts stretched up so high that it was impossible to tell if anyone was in the crow's nest. The whole ship was painted black, with red lines around the doors. They were standing on a lower level; there were platforms on the bow and stern about four feet above the midsection. On top of those platforms were men with, weirdly enough, bubbles around their heads, distorting their features and muffling most of their sounds; they were communicating mostly with hand gestures.

"What's going on with their heads?" asked Albus, nudging Rose.

Surprisingly, it was James who answered.

"Oh, that's the Bubble-Head Charm!" he exclaimed. "I can do that really well! You'll be learning it in fourth-year Charms—or at least, we did."

He held his wand up to his mouth and blew hard on the tip. A long strand of bubble fluttered out of the end, and then it bent backwards and encased his head.

Once the bubble was over his head, he tried to say something, but it sounded like he was yelling through a wall.

"What?"

James lifted his wand and poked the bubble; it popped instantly. "I said, it lets you breathe underwater."

"That's pretty neat," said Albus. "You can do it nonverbally?"

"There's no incantation, actually. Plinky said it was probably going to be the only nonverbal spell we'd learn until sixth year."

Albus glanced back at the crewmen with the bubbles over their heads.

"So they stay on deck when we go underwater?"

"Presumably," said James. "That's where the wheel is, anyway. I guess they steer from outside the ship."

Rose glanced upwards. "Won't the crow's nest stay filled with water when it surfaces if the entire ship goes under like that?"

"Come on, kids," said Harry, . "Let's get down into the cabins so we're not holding up any—"

He was interrupted by a horrible screeching sound, like nails on a blackboard. Albus craned his neck up.

There was a woman with dark purple hair leaning over the edge of the crow's nest, screaming her head off. On a closer look, Albus realized that it was a mermaid. So it was good that the crow's nest filled with water—the worker in the crow's nest lived in it. The water was replenished every time the ship went under.

One of the crewmen popped the bubble around his head and began screeching back. When they were finished, he turned around and called, "All inside! Submerging in thirty!"

"Everyone get inside the cabin, ship's going down," said Harry, chivvying them all through the door. Albus was last, and Harry closed the door behind all of them.

"Evening, ladies and gents," said a stout man with a twiggy mustache. "Rooms thirteen through fifty are currently open—ah, Harry Potter! I haven't seen you since the great Gallen chase!"

"Hello, Milo," said Harry, giving the man a hug. Milo was so short that Harry had to bend down to hug him.

"By heavens, is this James?" said Milo, looking over at Albus. He shook Albus's hand vigorously. "So old already! Nice to finally meet you! Harry's told me so much about you, though it was when you were just a wee little lad, so all I know is how many diapers you went through—"

"Actually, this is Albus, my second son," corrected Harry.

"Ah, excellent name," said Milo with a wink.

"Al, this is—"

A blue light flashed and a little bell clanged.

"Hold on to something just for a moment," said Milo. "It's smooth after we get under the waves—"

Albus grabbed a railing by the wall just in time as the boat lurched forwards and downwards—it felt like they were freefalling for a moment, and then the sailing was smooth.

"Al, this is Milo Melaenk," said Harry, and Albus shook Milo's hand. "First mate of the Loch Stock Liner, under captain Salvo Ihmleste. Salvo is one of only—how many is it, now?"

"Sixty-two," replied Milo without skipping a beat, apparently knowing what Harry was asking.

"One of only sixty-two humans in the world who speak Mermish," replied Harry. "Dominique's studying to become number sixty-three in a couple years, incidentally."

"Still in the Auror department?" asked Milo.

"Oh, yes, you know it," said Harry. "Sorry I haven't had time to visit—these trips are expensive, though, you know…"

"Yes, of course, and I've forgotten to ticket you," laughed Milo. "Where to?"

"Oh, goodness, how many are we?" asked Harry, a palm to his forehead.

"I counted, it was twenty-five. It's my job to count, you know."

"Right, of course, subtract Mum and throw in Teddy. Twenty-five to, ah, the Burrow pond. You know the one?"

"'Course, I know everything," chuckled Milo. "How many under seventeen?"

Harry thought to himself for a moment. "Damn," he said. "Molly just turned seventeen this month. Anyway, we've got…" He counted on his fingers. "James, Al, Lily, Rose, Hugo, Lucy, Louis, Freddie, Roxanne. Nine. Am I missing anyone?"

"I don't think so," said Albus. There were a dozen kids in the Weasley and Potter families—thirteen if you counted Teddy—and Teddy, Victoire, Dominique, and Molly were all of age.

"Nine kids, then," said Harry. "Sixteen adults."

"Comes to seventy-four Galleons, then, for the trip," said Milo.

Harry cringed.

"Got it," he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a large number of coins.

"Thank you for your business," recited Milo. "As per our code of conduct, we will always arrive at your stop within one hour or we'll reimburse you; two hours and we'll reimburse you double. Feel free to settle into any open cabin. Please don't smash the windows. And welcome to the Loch Stock Liner, safest way to travel! Hazard-free since 1883."

"Thank you," said Harry courteously. "And by the way, Milo, it's good to see you're still working!"

"Unfortunate to hear that you're still working," said Milo, "because that means there's still Dark Wizards afoot."

"Apparently it's Squibs now, actually," said Harry, shrugging.

"Dark Squibs?" said Milo. "Hm. Well, you don't hear much when you live underwater, but I never thought I'd hear that."

"Neither did I," said Harry. "Have a good day, Milo."

"You too," said Milo. "Your cabin candles will flash blue when we're about to surface at your destination. See you then."

Harry led Albus down the hall of the ship, which was much bigger on the inside than the outside. Ginny was waving at them from cabin fourteen.

Harry and Albus joined Ginny, James, and Lily in the small room, which had only two chairs, bolted to the floor. It was just barely big enough to accommodate them. There were railings all around the wall at waist height, and also at the bottom of the wall, which looked like they would make sitting against the wall a painful experience.

"Why can't we spread out?" moaned James. "There's, like, thirty open cabins."

"Because we're a family," said Ginny. "This is family time."

James grumbled into the corner as Harry tried feebly to stretch out his legs; there wasn't enough space.

"This is fun," he said, failing to stimulate the mood.

"No, it's not," remarked Ginny truthfully.

"Safest way to travel, though," said Harry. "Hazard-free since eighteen-eighty three. We used this bad boy's magic sensors to locate Gallen Ingot more than once."

"Really?" asked Albus, excited to hear this story.

"Yes, it was fairly useful," said Harry. "If he was ever near water, they'd let us know—this ship could find him anywhere in the world, because of the power he possessed. Another reason people think his power was supernatural. Oh, and apparently, the crew sometimes senses other things with this ship, and they have no idea what some of them are."

"Like what?"

Harry scratched his sideburns and looked out the window. "There's a massive fish-like magical creature that they can sense from hundreds of miles away," he responded. "Sometimes, when they've reported passing close to the creature in their bearings, people have reported seeing hulking shadows outside their windows for the briefest of moments when passing through the Straits. The world is still full of mysteries, Al. There are a few people I know who go crazy over researching this kind of stuff—they call this one the 'Loch Stock Stalker,'" because only the Liner ever finds it."

"Cool," said Albus, glancing out the window. He knew it was probably fruitless to look now, but still, some part of him hoped he might catch a glimpse of something special.

"Could be an experiment gone awry, or a magical accident, or even an undiscovered creature," said Harry. "Who knows, maybe the Hydra isn't extinct after all. We'll leave it to Luna for looking into that."

"Dumbledore's Hocus-Focuser idea came from this ship, didn't it?" asked Ginny.

"Yes—it did, as a matter of fact," said Harry. "Dumbledore took a few voyages on this ship, checking out the ship's sensors, and developed a handy device that lets the holder locate the nearest sizeable source of magic. We've been working on replicating his Hocus-Focusers for years and haven't gotten anywhere, we still only have his original ten."

Albus glanced back out the window. The seascapes were rushing by at ridiculous paces—the ship was traveling ludicrously fast. Something popped into his mind as he thought about their journey.

"This thing is going to make it to the pond by the Burrow?" he asked skeptically.

"It can surface anywhere there's enough water, even if it's not connected to the ocean," said Ginny. "The Dempseys' pool is probably big enough—this thing could show up in the Dempseys' pool! Don't think they'd take kindly to that, of course."

Albus could attest to _that._ Ever since the global revelation, and the Dempseys' subsequent realization that the Potters were a magical family, communications had dropped to a bare minimum between the neighbors. Normal associations still hadn't restarted in over a year.

The candles in the cabin started flashing. The wicks began sparking, and the flames flickered back and forth between yellow and the usual red.

"Hold on to something," said Harry, grasping a pole.

"What's happening?" asked Albus, as he grabbed the railing with one hand and the rung of his mother's chair with the other.

There was a deep rumbling sound, growing in volume. The cabin began shaking—the entire _ship_ was shaking, and there were dark streaks flying by the windows in the water outside.

"What is this?" he shouted louder, beginning to panic slightly.

"Digher Straits," answered Ginny. "It's a series of magical waterways that transport this boat at almost fifty times its usual rate of travel. They run all across the world. The Liner has to go through one or more of them between almost every trip if it wants to make all of its stops in time."

"Wow," said Albus, still a little nervous from the ominous black blobs streaking by their window. "Are there other underwater paths like this?"

"Well, Digher Straits is just the name they gave to the collection of these straits," said Ginny. "So Digher Straits is the only one, but it's a whole bunch of waterways. Only magical ships like this can navigate them. Captain Ihmleste knows where every single strait begins and ends; he plots the routes around where the nearest straight begins and where it lets out. He finds whichever strait takes him closest to his intended destination and enters it. For example, I know there's one in the Bermuda Triangle that lets out at the bottom of the Marianas Trench. It's unfortunately a little too shallow, so a lot of Muggle vessels have gone missing there when the strait fluctuates closer to the surface, and they end up at the bottom of a trench, crushed from the pressure."

Albus tried to picture this in his head—the image he constructed was a series of tunnels almost like the Floo Network, where magical ships could enter and be transported mostly across the world in a heartbeat.

The rumbling and shaking stopped, and there was only clear water outside their window. The candles in the room flashed green, apparently signaling that they were out of the Straits.

"Did they make the Digher Straits for the Loch Stock Liner?" he asked curiously.

"Actually, no," said Harry. "Digher Straits has been here forever, I think. The wizards who created the Loch Stock Liner simply tapped into this resource and figured out how to structure ships so that they could handle the pressure inside the Straits."

"What were the black blobs?"

"Those are Blicks," said Harry. "Hard to explain. You might learn about them. Blicks are what make Digher Straits work."

The candles flashed yellow again.

They all gripped railings. There was a sharper scraping sound, and the little cabin was jarred around much more violently than before.

"W-What's g-g-going on n-now?" yelled Albus; it was hard to talk while his jaw was being flung up and down and side to side with the room.

"G-Going through land!" shouted Ginny back.

This went on for about fifteen seconds, and then the candles in the cabin all flashed blue as they screeched to a stop.

Ginny stood up. "That can't be us _already,_" she said incredulously. "Did they signal the wrong cabins? We just got on!"

They stepped out of the cabin with all of the other Weasleys, and saw Milo waving to them.

"I put in a word with the Captain," said Milo. "Put in a word for us to your important friends, won't you?" he asked with another wink.

"Thank you so much," said Harry with a big grin as the Potters walked towards the door. Ginny seemed to be in a much better mood than when they were in the cabin.

They opened the door to the midsection of the deck, splashing into a thin film of water as the ship drained. Albus checked their surroundings and laughed—frogs were jumping off the ship and gnomes were gawking from the garden. The Burrow was dead ahead.

"Have a nice summer!" called Milo as he shut the door again.

They climbed down the ladder and waded through the pond back towards the garden. Albus looked back as the ship sank back into the shallow pond, disappearing in seconds though the pond was only a foot deep.

The family settled into their respective rooms; it was already very late. Albus dragged the sheets over his tired body, and relived the spectacle from the World Cup of the final Seeker race as he drifted off smiling.

It was hard to drift off, though—one happy thought kept him so excited he almost couldn't sleep: in a month, he'd be heading to Diagon Alley to shop for school. There… he was finally going to buy his second wand.

The coming school year already looked to be full of action.

* * *

_**Oh, how about this? If we ever hit 300 reviews on this book, I'll tell you the title of Book 4 on the following week's upload, and I'll change my profile picture to the cover art of Book 4 so you can see it. (Please only one review per person per chapter, though!) It'll be awesome, and if you've read everything up to this point, you'll be **_**very**_** excited to learn what the fourth book will be called... guaranteed, or your reviews back!**_

_**If you're reading on the day this was uploaded, or even the week after, and you don't have anything to say in a review, you can just wish me a happy birthday if you want... It IS my nineteenth birthday today, 1/26/13, as a matter of fact!**_

_**See you next week!**_


	2. Diwandology

_**(Read at least the first two small paragraphs.)**_

_**I apparently confused more than one person, so just in case it was a more widespread confusion: When Malseth said that wizards fail to notice the little "shape-shifting advantage" of the Sandbloods, he was referring to the mulunctapoli, which are shape-shifter creatures, if you remember from Dizzy.**_

_**Because mulunctapoli are such an enormous factor in the series, especially from this point on, I'll give a little refresher. You can skip it if you know enough about the mulunctapoli that you don't need a reminder.**_

_**A mulunctapol is a creature whose shape takes the form of whatever the beholder finds nonthreatening or cute, so as to avoid being attacked. If it IS attacked, however, a mulunctapol can bite down on a wizard and suck out their magic, turning them permanently into a Squib. It will then use the stolen magic to command the forces of nature to attack their aggressor. Because of the mulunctapol's ability to command nature, it has often been connected to the legends of Dismiusa. In the legends, the mulunctapoli would suck out magic and, instead of using all of it, transport some of it back to give to Dismiusa. When the mulunctapoli gave Dismiusa enough power, she would awaken from her slumber and go on a rampage. Alternatively, it was said that one could also find Dismiusa somewhere in the Forbidden Forest and transfer your own magic to her body, combining your soul with hers. People claim this is how Gallen Ingot got his extraordinary power. Is it? What do you think? Aren't stories of Dismiusa supposed to be among the most far-fetched of legends? Then that brought up the important question: Where did the mulunctapoli come from? They were supposedly exterminated in the beginning of the fourteenth century. The Sandbloods, last chapter, revealed that the mulunctapoli were gifted to the Sandbloods by "The Man in the Shadows," who remains, as suggested by the name, in the shadows, unseen and untraceable. But then where did he get them? Either they reappeared out of nowhere, or the extermination of the mulunctapoli was incomplete (though people who lived at that time, such as Litinia Darstary, the portrait in the History of Magic classroom of the Hogwarts Herbology professor, insist that every mulunctapoli in existence was killed). If they reappeared out of nowhere, though, something must have brought them back. Was it the Man in the Shadows? Or was it Dismiusa?**_

_**I know I've teased you enough about that question, but I can't tell you just yet. I'll give you a hint, though: by the beginning of the fourth book, you will be able to assume for sure what the answer to that question is. Every little detail about the mulunctapoli is important, just not necessarily in the ways you might have been led to think.**_

_**That was long-winded, but I hope it helped some of you guys catch up. Sometimes, since I know the plot so well, I forget to mention some details because I already know them and I forget that the readers don't. That's why Andy is there, though, he reads through them beforehand and catches that sort of stuff when he can. If you ever are confused, though, DO say it in the reviews!**_

_**Hope you like this next chapter!**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

DIWANDOLOGY

O

Albus rushed downstairs. Today was the day. Today, he was going to meet up with Rose, Aidan, and Alec, and their second wands were going to choose them. He regretted that Eftan couldn't come, but he'd already gone to Diagon Alley with Sylvester.

"Slow down, we don't want you breaking your wand arm," laughed Harry. "How did you sleep?"

"I had a dream last night that I was dueling someone with two wands," answered Albus. "It was really awesome."

Ginny walked over to their toaster. "Twelve pancakes," she said.

A dozen pancakes popped out, two at a time; Ginny caught them on her plate. She walked around, distributing two to herself, her husband, and Lily, and giving three each to the boys. Albus was beaming over the prospect of two wands, and James had been beaming continuously for the past week, since he had been chosen Quidditch Captain.

Lily was practically exploding with glee; she ate her pancakes in about two and a half seconds. Albus knew she must be as excited as he was, if not more—she was getting her _first_ wand. This was the year she'd been looking forward to for so long—the year she was finally going to be able to go to Hogwarts. Albus thought back to his first year and the excitement he'd experienced, which was so soon filled with dread at the prospect of being sorted into Slytherin. He wondered which House his little sister would join.

Ginny got up from the table when a tapping noise rang through the dining room; a snowy owl was at the glass door. It looked like Aunt Angelina's owl, Gilder.

Ginny slid open the door and took the letter; Gilder hooted and took off again. That was unusual—owls usually stayed in case a response needed to be written back to the owner. She opened the letter and scanned it quickly; a hand went up to her mouth.

"Oh, _no,_" she whispered.

Harry's face went white. "What happened? Was that Gilder? Is everything okay with George's family?"

"They're all okay," said Ginny. "But the shop was burned down to the ground."

"_WHAT?_" shouted all four of the other family members together.

"He says the fireplace is still intact, and that we can use it to get to Diagon Alley," she continued. "He sent us Gilder so that we wouldn't be freaked out when we got there. Apparently the damage is really bad, but he'll explain it when we arrive."

"Oh, no," said Harry. "Quick, let's go."

"I haven't finished my pancakes!" complained James with a mouthful of pancakes.

"Then hurry up, you can go last," said Harry, stepping into the fireplace and grabbing Floo powder so violently that some spilled onto the floor. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" he said loudly and clearly, disappearing into the green flames.

Albus went next, leaving some of his breakfast behind—he'd lost his appetite. He grabbed some Floo powder for himself and yelled, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

He was sucked into the Floo Network, tumbling around for a bit; then, he fell out of the fireplace onto a dirt floor instead of the usual neatly polished wood.

His heart sank as he looked up to see the sun—the entire store was demolished. There were no shelves with little toy Harry Potters chasing around little toy Voldemorts. There were no glittering aisles of love potions and clothes-removing potions. There was nothing—only ash.

"What happened?" Harry was asking Uncle George.

"Muggles," sighed Uncle George. "I love most of 'em, like Dad, but that small percentage of them… According to a note they left, we had been selling 'anti-Muggle' pranking equipment, products specifically designed to bring amusement to wizards at the expense of the suffering of their non-magical brethren."

"Were you?" asked Harry, aghast.

"We were most certainly not!" defended Uncle George. "We sell products to bring amusement to _people_ at the expense of _other people_, wizards and Muggles alike. We certainly don't endorse the usage of these products for 'anti-Muggle' activities! And even if we did, I doubt that the pure-blood bigots would come here for ink-spraying pens that strip you down to your underwear. That doesn't seem like a type of product specifically targeted against non-wizards!"

Ginny and Lily had now tumbled from the fireplace, dusting ash from their clothing and looking around mournfully at the completely incinerated building.

"This is just awful," said Ginny, walking over to her brother.

"We bought this place with the money you gave us," said Uncle George to Harry.

Harry nodded. "From the Triwizard Tournament prize money," he said sadly.

Albus abruptly remembered that the Triwizard Tournament was going to be taking place this year.

He stopped thinking about the tournament, though, when he looked at his uncle's face. Uncle George looked the most miserable that Albus had ever seen him in his life. This was the shop that had launched his career… that had made him the wealthiest member of the Weasley family… from which so many memories had stemmed.

And, probably most importantly… he had built it with his brother.

A tear slid down Uncle George's cheek as he picked up the charred frame that used to hold the floating portrait of Fred.

Lily gasped. "Is Uncle Fred gone?" she cried, staring at the burnt portrait as James slid out of the fireplace and whistled at the state of the shop.

"No, he'll just have to stay in his other portrait that we have at the Burrow until we fix this one," said Uncle George, wiping his sleeve across his eyes and nose. He sighed and sat down on the floor, picking up the burnt pieces of wood that lay scattered around the plot.

He was so engrossed in touching the remnants of his building that he didn't notice an old man walk towards them, over where the door used to be, gazing around at the decimated joke shop.

"Can we help you?" asked Harry.

Uncle George looked up and squinted, as if he vaguely recognized the man. The old-timer sighed as he strolled into the shop, his hands in his pockets, and tilted his hat down over his eyes, as if he didn't want to be recognized.

"Shame," he said in a low voice. "Real shame. This was a marvelous place, this was."

"Who are you?" asked Uncle George.

"Never you mind," said the mysterious old man. He dug his hand further in his pocket, and Harry, paranoid ever since the incident in the car at the end of last year, kept his hand close to his wand.

But what the old man pulled out of his pocket was a bulging—_massive_—sack of Galleons, which he tossed towards Uncle George. The sack opened up and out spilled some of the coins, glistening in the early morning sun.

Uncle George's mouth fell open, and he stared back at the man.

"Heard about your shop a little while ago," he said. "Here, rebuild it."

"Th-Thank you," stammered Uncle George. "What…?"

"Repaying some of my debts," he grunted. "…Plus interest. Feel lucky, Weasley, I am by no means repaying _all_ of my debts. Yours, though… I heard what happened to the shop and I remembered how much I liked your merchandise when you first showed it to me, and I figured… I figured I'd do some good for once."

He turned and shuffled out of the shop.

"And much better you than the goblins," he muttered.

Uncle George gawked after him. "_Ludo?_" he said in obvious disbelief.

The old man gave a courteous wave and then Disapparated with a faint pop.

Uncle George looked at the bag of coins in front of him. "That was… so unexpected of him," he said with a blank stare.

Albus had the feeling that he just witnessed some sort of climactic moment, but he had no idea what Uncle George's history was with this man named "Ludo."

"Albus! What the heck happened here?"

He turned to see Aidan and his parents staring at the ruins. Next to them was one of Aidan's siblings—probably Lauren, since she was coming to Hogwarts this year, as Aidan had said. She resembled her parents much more than Aidan did. Aidan's skin was dark, he was a bit on the short side, and his face small and narrow; she was pale, almost taller than him already, and had a rounder, slightly plumper look.

With a smile, Albus ran over and hugged his friend. "Some, er, vandalism," he said in response to the question.

"_Some?_"

"A lot of vandalism," revised Albus, staring back at his family.

His father tossed him a small bag of money—probably enough for a wand. "You can head over to Ollivander's if you want," he said. "Use that to pay if we don't get there before you get your wand. We'll meet you there when Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione show up with Rose and Hugo for their wands. Good luck!"

Albus laughed, remembering how long it had taken him to find his first wand, but how great his first turned out to be. He accompanied Aidan's parents Justin and Laura to Ollivander's, chatting about the Quidditch World Cup.

"You got to be in the _Top Box?_" asked Aidan, impressed.

"Perks of being famous," said Justin.

He held the door open for them as they stepped into the wand shop.

"Albus!" said Luna brightly as he walked into the shop. "Silver lime and core of Devil's Snare tendril. The freaky mind-probing wand. And your friend is… Aidan! Your wand was the first Ramora bone wand I've sold, was it not?"

"Yeah," said Aidan, pleased that she remembered him.

"How's business, Luna?" asked Justin, strolling up and having a look around.

"Much busier," said Luna, looking actually annoyed at this news. "I don't really want so much work in the wand shop, I like to study creatures, too. But I know why there was such a jump. People are buying second wands, because they're all nervous and think that having a second wand will help them duel. People who aren't trained, just coming in and buying another wand for protection."

"Do you have to be trained?" asked Justin. "It isn't just intuitive if you already know how to use one?"

"You don't really _have_ to be trained, but a ton of practice is going to be needed if you want to learn how to focus your energy properly when you have to direct your movements with two wands. Some people just don't realize that getting two wands doesn't make you twice as good—it makes it harder for you to sustain your dueling, in fact. You tire faster. But I'm sure you kids are going to be learning all about that, you clever ones!"

Aidan and Albus nodded; they both couldn't wait to start Diwand Spells.

Luna slid a box out of her stores. "Let's get you your wand first, sweetie," she said to Aidan's sister. "What's your name?"

"Lauren."

"Lauren, all right. You're a charming girl… Care to try this one?"

She handed Lauren a box labeled APP-11-PF-FF5-39.

"Elijah!" she called to the back. "Could you get me out all the alder wands in the eighty-third section for young Aidan here? I think he's an alder kid."

A young boy who looked like a recent Hogwarts graduate was assisting Luna now. Albus felt a wave of depression flow over him as he remembered that Luna's affable old assistant, Hugh January with his seven fingers, was still missing.

Albus was distracted from watching Elijah sort the wands and Lauren test them when Exorian Wilcox walked in with his father.

"Albus?" said Exo, surprised to see him.

Albus grinned and ran over to hug his werewolf friend. "Hi, Exo! What's up? Here for your second wand?"

"Yeah, and I see Aidan's here… Is Alec here? Or Eftan?"

"Alec's coming," said Albus. "Eftan already got his. What was your first, by the way?"

"Fir and unicorn," said Exo as Luna walked over to greet him.

"Exorian Wilcox! And Helio. How nice to see you both. I'll be with you in a moment."

She tended to Lauren, and when Lauren had a nice-looking hazel wand, Luna turned to Aidan.

She barely had time to open her mouth, though, before Alec walked in and gave a roar of delight at seeing Albus and Aidan. As he ran to greet them, Holly and Mia walked in behind him.

"Hi, Albus," said Holly meekly, waving at him.

Albus held his breath when Mia walked closer—last time she had been around, she and Aidan had been in a bit of a shouting match. He hoped that tensions weren't still high after that.

"Hi, Albus!" she said pleasantly. "Hi, Aidan!"

Aidan looked relieved that she didn't appear to be holding a grudge against him, and waved back in a friendly manner.

Mia walked back over to Alec and held his hand. Albus liked Mia as a person (most of the time), and he hoped that she and Alec would stick together.

Luna didn't look very happy at how many people she now had waiting in line, but she turned back to Aidan and set herself to work.

"Here, try this one," she said, handing him a box labeled ALD-1075-UH-P9-12. "Alder, unicorn hair, ten and three-quarter inches, rigidity scale 9, matured with pressure."

Aidan took the wand, and instantly there was some kind of reaction—Albus felt the air slightly heat up for a second.

"Well, well!" said Luna happily. "Excellent! I rarely ever get a match on the first try. I _am_ getting better at this. That'll be ten Galleons, ten Sickles, then."

She turned to Albus.

"You next, Al! Let's hope it doesn't take as long as it did last time!"

Albus laughed nervously, hoping the same thing to save himself the embarrassment.

"Elijah, could you put these all back? We had a successful match on the first try."

Elijah apparently had just finished pulling out every alder wand from aisle 83, and looked at her wearily before sighing and sending all the boxes back.

"And if you could get some ebony and fir from the seventy-second section?" said Luna. "A few of each that you think might suit Mr. Potter here."

"I've got fir," noted Exo.

Humming a little tune to herself as Elijah waved his wand and extracted some of the boxes from aisle seventy-two, she took the first box that zoomed towards her, examined it, shook her head and opened the second.

Before Albus could take it, in walked his mother and father with James, Lily, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Rose, and Hugo.

Luna sighed at the three new customers in line, but was happy to see her friends again. She told Albus to start opening boxes as she went to talk to his parents, and to give a shout if he got one that felt right.

"How're the twins, Luna?" asked Ginny.

Albus started picking out wands from the pile and trying them as Luna recounted hilarious tales of her sons Lorcan and Lysander. He moved through the pile as quickly as Elijah was sending them his way, and as the flow slowed, Albus began to worry that he was going to be nearly impossible to match again.

"So," Harry was saying to Luna, "your research on wands made it into the Hogwarts curriculum?"

"Yes, Laney came by to ask me a bit about my research, especially on Diwandology and my deviations from the Supreme Cores that Ollivander studied. There's no reason why these others don't make wands that are just as decent, just as often… they're sometimes harder to get, though, and more expensive. I mean, we only have so many Acromantula bristles and I'd feel bad about sending Elijah out to get more. And you're not allowed to hunt Ramora—not that I would if I could—so we have to find them dead to get the bones, which is tricky… I've only sold a handful of those wands…"

Albus's face lit up as he grasped a wand near the bottom of the pile. His fingers tingled and he felt a shiver down his spine like a breeze. "Luna!" he called. "I think it's this one!"

Luna strolled back over. "Ebony, phoenix feather, fourteen inches, rigidity scale ten, matured in lightning. Interesting. Another remarkably combative wand. I just had this one brought in last month, actually. I knew there was an ebony wand _somewhere_ out there for you, I just didn't have it last time. How's that silver lime wand?"

"It's just as freaky mind-probing-y as ever," he said, recalling the incident with Eftan towards the end of last year.

"Yes, I expected that… Well, that's good. It means you've got a good amount of magic in you, for the wand to keep expelling the extra like that." She turned to Wilcox and his son. "Exorian? How about you step on that scale there?"

Albus recognized the machine from the last time he was here, but someone had evidently made a few improvements to its design. Before, the design had just been a platform under a long vertical rod which rocked like a pendulum. Now it was composed of two smaller platforms, one for each foot, and a ring of several dozen floating marbles surrounded the top of the vertical rod.

Exo stepped onto the scale, and immediately three of the marbles dropped and clattered to the floor.

"Did I break it?" he asked nervously.

Luna giggled. "No, it's supposed to do that. That rules out about eighty percent of our wands already. Lean slowly to the left, then slowly to the right, then slowly forward, then slowly backward. Then crouch, then jump."

As Exo performed all of these odd actions, the vertical rod would tip in a random direction and knock down a marble. Elijah was taking swift notes on this. When Exo finished with a jump and the last marble dropped, Elijah waved his wand and all the marbles flew back up into their ring. Elijah strode away and started sending boxes of wands in their direction.

"Exorian, dear, try this one," said Luna, handing him a box labeled RDW-115-UH-P3-76.

He made to grab the wand, but Luna pulled it away before he could grasp it. "No, no," she murmured. Exo looked befuddled.

She handed him another one, labeled IVY-1075-UH-P4-54. He took the wand, and she grabbed it right back.

"Closer," she said. "I think… here."

She handed him a third box labeled IVY-95-UH-E4-51.

Once he took this wand, there was no taking it back.

"Ivy," said Luna, shrugging. "Nine and a half inches, unicorn hair, rigidity scale four, matured in earth. Dirt, I mean. Basically we bury some of our wands in special soil. I've noticed that earth-matured wands tend to be more steady and stable partners. With unicorn hair, you're going to probably be a well-rounded spell-caster. But there's a few things you should know about ivy."

Exo was listening intently.

"Ivy, as you know from the plant, will mostly flourish when there is a lot of material around on which it can climb," she continued. "Ivy needs a helping hand. I'm not slandering you when I say this, I promise, but it's just what I've observed in my time—the people to whom I've mostly sold ivy wands have some sort of disability."

Exo blushed.

"Parker Pullman, the blind boy in your year? He's got an ivy wand. Ivy usually needs a helping hand to succeed, and so do the owners of ivy wands. All I'm saying is, don't be afraid to ask for help from your teachers and friends. If you don't, like ivy without a wall, you may never be able to reach your fullest heights. But if you do have help, you will soar!"

She turned to Alec, leaving Exo looking rather dazed. He glanced at Albus.

Albus winked back at him. He'd always be there to help Exo.

Alec didn't have to step on the machine; apparently, Luna remembered his likely wand preference.

"Alec McKinnon," she said, laughing. "Larch and manticore spike. Good grief. How could I forget? Eighth manticore spike wand I ever sold, and four of the first seven went to professional duelists."

Alec grinned.

Luna strolled over to the aisles and started throwing boxes at him. "Here," she said. "Close your eyes and pick a box."

Alec closed his eyes and walked forward to the pile. A box subsequently hit him in the face; he fell backwards flat on his rear.

"You can find the pile and _then_ close your eyes," suggested Luna gently. "And sorry about hitting you!"

Once he'd found the pile of boxes, Alec closed his eyes and sifted through them. On his sixth opened box, he pulled out a wand that glowed slightly red the first time he touched it. Luna noticed and walked over.

"Red oak, Chimaera mane hair—really, Alec? You've got a chimaera and a manticore in your wands? Anyway, length nine and three quarter inches, rigidity scale five, and matured in water. I like your combinations here, Alec. Larch and red oak? Matured in lightning and matured in water? Your two wands are extremely compatible. You're going to be a phenomenal Diwand spell-caster."

Leaving Alec looking thrilled, she turned to the rest of her customers.

Lily looked likely to explode from having to wait, but first, Mia and Holly had to get their wands. Mia took a sequoia wand to add to her reed wand, and Luna told her this was indicative that Mia was happy with a modest life, without much change. Her magic was likely to be strong and stable and good with defensive spellwork. Holly, much to her chagrin and much to Alec's delight, received a holly wand. Albus knew that Alec was not going to let this go for a long time, if ever.

"You have hornbeam and holly now, Holly?" asked Luna; Alec snorted in laughter again.

"Yes," said Holly glumly.

"You're a person who will be devoted to a single thing, a spiritual cause in all likelihood," said Luna. "Your devotion is moving. With your two unicorn tail cores, you'll be able to learn a lot from these two wands. Lily, now you?"

Alec bumped Albus with his elbow.

"What?" said Albus.

"It's you," he said, clearly suppressing some hilarity; his face was turning red and his mouth was twitching with the strain of not bursting out laughing.

"What's me?"

"Holly's 'devotion,'" he cackled.

"What are you talking about?"

"Luna said Holly was going to be devoted to a single thing," guffawed Alec. "It's totally you, she's obsessed with you!"

Albus's face went redder than Alec's.

"Stop it," he mumbled as Alec joyfully wiped tears from his eyes.

"Don't ever break up with her, Luna warned us, she's obsessed," chuckled Alec.

"I didn't know we were together," grumbled Albus.

Holly unfortunately chose that point in time to leap on him and kiss him on the cheek. Albus laughed nervously and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

Lily was chosen by an ice-matured vine wand with a phoenix feather core—Luna noticed its box wriggling on its shelf as Lily approached. Aunt Hermione was particularly pleased; apparently her first wand had been vine, though it was never recovered after she'd lost it in the war. Lily was overwhelmed with holding her wand and Harry and Ginny had to keep an eye on her at all times to make sure she wasn't waving it randomly.

Hugo was next. His wand was a cactus wand, which was one of the few in the shop. Luna claimed that the cactus wand's reputation of being less powerful than others was merely rumor, and that in actuality, wands made from cacti had the odd tendency to hold back their full potential by storing up power until a moment of need. In her experience, exams were included in these moments of need—a cactus wand can sense when its owner especially needs it to perform, even just for a good grade. Albus wondered how much of this sort of wandlore he'd be studying in his A.R.M. classes.

Rose was last, looking for her second wand, which came to her in the form of a bamboo wand with dragon heartstring in its core. Luna remarked that a bamboo wand was far more common in Asia, but that she found that bamboo wands, formed from a plant which grows at one of the most remarkable rates in the world, tend to choose owners characterized by their fast learning, fast adaptation, and fast reflexes; also, according to Chinese legend, they tended to have a large number of children.

"I find that the second wand tends _not_ to be the same type of wood as the first, for some reason," said Luna, "and I've confirmed my findings so far this year, with these two dozen kids coming in for their second wands and all these moronic adults coming in for their second wands, thinking it'll make them safer… Anyway, looks like we're all set here. Lily, Hugo, and Lauren, good luck at Hogwarts! Albus, Rose, Alec, Aidan, Holly, Mia, and Exo, good luck in your A.R.M. classes! James, good luck on your O.W.L.s!"

They exited the shop, waving a grateful goodbye.

Albus took out his first wand and held it in his right hand, testing how it felt against his new wand. He switched the wands several times, testing the differences.

He frowned. For some reason, neither wand was particularly responsive in his grip at the moment. Usually he could feel some sort of connection—now there was very little that he could feel in his wands. He wondered if this was a side effect of being chosen by two wands.

"This is really cool," said Aidan, gripping his second wand and giving it a few waves. "Diwand Spells is going to be my favorite subject."

"Wandless Magic for me," said Alec. "I want to learn to blow people's heads off with a wave of my hand. _Boom!_"

"Grow up," laughed Exo. "I wand to learn about Alternative Artifact Magic. That sounds really cool—Dad told me we're going to talk about scepters and staffs and stuff."

"Modern Magical Instruments sounds great," said Rose. "We're going to learn about wandmaking! I want to work with Luna for a while when I'm out of school."

"I'm looking forward to all of them, really," said Mia.

"Me, too!" agreed Holly.

Albus was still trying to connect with his wands. The more he switched the hands holding his wands, the less magic he could feel when he held them. He stowed away his original wand and just held his new wand, examining the effects.

"Albus, your pocket is on fire," said Lily casually.

Albus jumped and extracted his silver lime wand from his pocket, which was indeed on fire. With a quick blast of cold air from his mother's wand, he was extinguished; he looked at his original wand curiously.

"The Triwizard Tournament is going to be happening this year," said Aidan in sudden realization. "Whoa. That's going to be cool."

"Long as no one dies this time," said Alec.

"I promise that won't happen," said Wilcox, smiling.

Aidan and Alec jumped; they'd forgotten that their headmaster was there.

"I've been working with Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff to bring back the tournament for a good reason," said Wilcox, gazing off into the sun. "Ever since the global revelation, the world has been in a state of utter upheaval. Everyone's full of fear and anxiety. In times like this… we need something to bring the world together. A way for us all to remember to be a tight-knit community, unbounded by frivolous and arbitrary land borders." He sighed. "We're not separate countries, we're one world."

"We're both," interrupted Alec.

Wilcox stared unblinkingly at him for a moment.

"Sure," he said. "We're both."

Justin Finch-Fletchley, Aidan's stepfather, was talking to Harry. They nodded as if making plans, and then Harry strolled up to the front of their group to talk to the group of seven.

"We're going to Flourish and Blotts," said Harry. "There we're going to get you your books for your new electives. After that, you seven third years won't have to stay, so we'll escort you back, but then we're going to take Hugo, Lily, and Lauren around to the other stores to get their Hogwarts equipment. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," said Albus, still fiddling with his wands.

They continued on their path towards Flourish and Blotts, entering the crowded store.

"This place is always tighter packed than Alana Falagair's shirt," muttered Ginny.

"What was that?" said Harry, tuning in.

"Nothing," said Ginny sweetly.

As they climbed to the second floor where the books were kept for the older students, Albus took out his Hogwarts letter and scanned it again.

_Third year students will require:_

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3)_ by Miranda Goshawk_

Charming, Too_ by Quintus Flitwick_

Rudimentary Runes_ by Starko Rhibbhedd (if attending Ancient Runes)_

Numerology and Grammatica_ by M. Carneiro and L. Wakefield (if attending Arithmancy)_

The Hairiest and the Scariest_ by Barlo Osculocate (if attending Care of Magical Creatures)_

Unfogging the Future_ by Cassandra Vablatsky (if attending Divination)_

_A.R.M. students will require:_

History of Wandlore_ by Jasper Norton_

Copacetials_ by Faith Garland, Flower Garland, and Hope Garland_

Sans Wands_ by Asante Molchiche_

Mastering the Wands_ by Yohn Dixon_

Shatterbolt and Frostflame_ (and other diwand spells) by Dalton Desulgon_

"Hey, there's a book by Professor Desulgon on this list!" said Alec.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "You didn't notice this before?"

"I didn't know he wrote any books."

"He's invented twenty percent of the known diwand spells," said Rose, suddenly sounding slightly out-of-breath.

"Why does _every girl in the school_ crush on Desulgon?" asked Alec, scratching his head in confusion. "He's got white hair and red eyes! He's awesome but he's freaky."

"I don't crush on him!" protested Rose unconvincingly.

"And he's albino, don't make fun of him," frowned Mia.

"There are other books on here written by our professors," Aidan pointed out. "I remember that one of our professors for A.R.M. had the first name 'Flower' and I assume that's her, I don't know too many people named 'Flower.' And then that 'Yohn Dixon' guy is our Diwand Spells professor."

"That makes sense, I guess," said Holly. "This is a fairly recent field with a lot of recent developments, so there aren't a lot of people around who know the subject as well as the people who wrote the first books.

"Guys?" said Mia, opening a book off of a close shelf. "This one was published in the nineteenth century."

"Which one?" asked Exo.

"The one written by one of our professors."

Albus looked at the book that Mia was holding—it was _Mastering the Wands_ by Yohn Dixon. He remembered that name from the course list. He took another copy of the book off the nearest shelf, and flipped to the inside cover. The publishing date was 1898.

"Wait, this was written by a _professor we have?_" shouted Alec, drawing the attention of half the store as he looked over Mia's shoulder at the book. "Is he like two hundred years old?"

"It's… possible," said Albus, shrugging. "If wizards don't catch diseases, they can live for much longer than Muggles."

"Exo, do you know how old Professor Dixon is?" asked Aidan.

Exo shook his head no. "Sorry, I haven't met him."

"Let's go find your dad and ask—" began Alec, but he stopped dead and cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" said Albus, looking in that direction.

"There was a really creepy-looking guy staring at us," said Alec.

"Are you sure he was staring at us?"

"He looked away and went behind a shelf when I turned towards him."

Albus tensed.

"Where's Dad?" he said, glancing around in search of his father. If there was anything suspicious happening at all, he wanted his parents around. He was already flashing back to the shots being fired at them in the car. If something like that happened to him without his mother and father around…

"He's down there," said Exo, "with my dad."

Exo was staring over the railing, watching Harry and Wilcox having a conversation on the floor below.

Albus walked up to the railing. "Hey, Dad?" he yelled.

Harry looked up.

"Could you come up here for a moment?"

From the serious nod in response, Albus knew that his father understood why he'd asked. "_Salimotor!_" said Harry, leaping up to the second floor and landing on the railing.

"We've been seeing a guy who's creeping us out," said Holly, twitching.

"Where?" asked Harry.

Wilcox bounded up over the railing next as Holly and Mia pointed to a series of shelves.

"He was wearing a hooded robe and he had his hands in his pockets," said Mia.

"I'll check it out," said Wilcox, wandering down the way they were pointing.

Harry kept a hand on his wand, staying close to his son. His presence would have been calming if it weren't for the edgy look on his face.

Ginny clambered up to them from the floor below.

"What's going on?" she asked, as Aidan's parents followed her.

"There's a man hanging around who's unnerving the kids," said Harry.

"Flourish and Blotts screens people for unwanted artifacts, like most of the stores here in Diagon Alley," said Ginny, looking in the direction her husband was looking. "I'm sure he's no harm…"

Abruptly, Wilcox charged out from behind the shelves, down the stairs after a hooded man who was sprinting as if his life depended on it. Harry gasped; he whipped out his wand concurrently with Ron, on the floor below. Their headmaster, however, didn't appear to need help—he cloaked himself in some sort of fiery shield, and blasted towards the suspicious man as if shot from a cannon.

The collision rocked the bookstore when Wilcox slammed the suspect into the wall; the customers all screamed and piled out of the way as Wilcox peeled the man off of the wall and laid him out on the floor, holding the man's wand. With a wave of his own wand, he froze the man's robe to the floor.

"_I'm sorry!_" he wailed. "_I'm sorry—let me go, I'll return them!_"

"Return them?" asked Wilcox, arching an eyebrow.

The man smashed his icy bindings, and with a swift slash of his hand, Wilcox was suddenly Disarmed—he'd done it without a wand.

The man snatched his wand back, dropped about two dozen books on the floor, and smashed the window of the shop, careening down a side aisle and disappearing.

"I think he was just a shoplifter," said Wilcox, picking up one of the books he'd left behind and examining it. "That's why he was acting so nervous."

Harry sighed and scratched his sideburns. "Okay. Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about," repeated Wilcox.

Harry grasped his hair and pulled hard. "This stress is going to give me a heart attack. It's not paranoia, because my children and I could be in danger literally every second of the day—these aren't unwarranted fears." He turned to Ginny, who was just catching up. "Should I be keeping you and the children out of public for a while?" he asked apologetically.

"I… think that… _maybe_… we shouldn't take the kids to Diagon Alley anymore," said Ginny. "You know… even though this was a false alarm… I'm thinking we should probably play it safe and only you and I should go. Or get a larger guard to stay with the kids at all times."

"I'll try to get some friends from the Auror Office next year," agreed Harry. "I don't want to keep them out of Diagon Alley _completely_… it's a part of the whole Hogwarts experience."

"But for now, I think we should either take them back or keep an eye on them at every second," said Ginny.

Albus suddenly felt a great deal of annoyance at the fact that a bunch of adults were standing around, discussing his fate without his input. But the minds had already been made up, and he spent the rest of his visit to Flourish and Blotts while surrounded by his parents, the Finch-Fletchleys, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, and Wilcox, keeping such a vigilant watch you'd think an attacker was going to burst out from under the floor at any moment. And indeed, it seemed as though they thought exactly something like that could happen, which really wasn't calming to Albus's already bothered mind.

O

"Hey, Albus," said Harry, walking over. "I have two surprises."

Albus turned.

"One, as it's almost time for you to go back to school for your third year, I think you should have… this."

He held out a sheet of paper that Albus instantly recognized as the Hogsmeade permission form, which was signed at the bottom. He happily accepted it to store amongst his things.

"Two, I want you to get your wand ready," said Harry. "We're going to practice the Patronus Charm a bit."

Albus gasped in a grin like a lunatic, and dashed up the stairs to store his Hogsmeade permission slip and get his wands.

"You should really have your wand with you at all times," said Harry nervously.

Ignoring him, Albus stuffed the paper in his trunk and grabbed his wands from his desk. Which one should he use?

He brought both down, but he stuffed his old one in his pocket and kept the new one in his hand.

"I'm going to break in my new wand," he said.

"All right," said Harry. "Now—I don't want you getting too excited about this. You're learning it now, but… I really doubt you'll be able to master it. Not a whole lot of adults can do this spell, and you're a third year." He posed with his own wand.

Albus readied his wand, keeping it in a loose grip like Professor Desulgon had said.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" shouted Harry.

The silver stag bounded out of his wand, exploding into being instantly. It glanced at Albus with soft, shimmering eyes, walked over to him, and nuzzled its head against his chest. The Patronus wasn't fully solid, but it still felt like an ocean wave pushing gently against his body, and it filled him with warmth and good feelings.

"The memory I chose there was the day you were born," said Harry, smiling. "The Patronus can sense the memory you've chosen, and it will react to that memory accordingly if the opportunity presents itself. That particular Patronus was a manifestation of my affection towards you. That's why it walked towards you and nuzzled up against you, and you probably felt a sort of warmth in your heart—that's because that kind of affection is tangible. If I were to cast that same Patronus, and you were being threatened, the Patronus would be acting much more protective out of my love for you. It could even recognize a threat that you didn't see, and draw your attention to it by pointing it out to you. It's not beyond a Patronus to do something like that. But because Patronuses are so sentient, it's extremely difficult to cast one. I have strong faith that you'll be able to do it within the year, though, if you practice. All it takes is getting used to the mindset, really. Are you ready to try your own?"

"Yes!" said Albus eagerly, grinning his head off. He couldn't wait to see what form his Patronus was going to take.

"I can't stress this enough," said Harry. "You will not be able to get your Patronus today, or before you leave for Hogwarts. It is something that took me a lot of rigorous practice. And even if you _do_ get it, you're going to want to practice a lot—you can't even imagine how difficult it is to produce a Patronus when there are Dementors around, you'll need to be an expert at the charm."

Albus couldn't wait to defy expectations yet again. For his entire Hogwarts career, he'd been doing things that no one thought he'd be able to do, blowing the minds of his teachers, and here was the chance to blow his father's mind, too. He was going to practice as hard as he could to get the Patronus before he left.

"Ready? I want you to think of a happy memory—but not just a happy memory. The happiest you can possibly imagine. Something that fills you up with the power of love—the most powerful kind of magic. You'll need its power to help you with this charm. It took James two months to do this, so don't feel bad if you can't get it now. When you're ready… the incantation is—_Expecto Patronum!_"

Albus searched his mind. What were his happiest memories? He tossed the thoughts around, trying to grab onto something special, something spectacular… a great joy… a great relief…

That was a good one! That was a rush of joy and relief like he'd rarely felt; that feeling couldn't be described in words. He raised his wand.

"Concentrate on that memory," said Harry, sensing that Albus had picked a thought. "Lose yourself in it. You don't have a body… All you are is what you are thinking right now. Clear everything from your mind, loosen every muscle, feel the memory in every core of your body, not just your brain. Remember the sights, the sounds, the smells, and go."

"_Expecto Patronum!_" said Albus clearly.

There was no reaction, not even the slightest hint of silver. He glanced at his wand.

"Which memory did you pick?" asked Harry, apparently unsurprised.

"When the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor," replied Albus.

Harry twisted his mouth around. "Is there something more powerful you could think about?"

"What, that isn't good enough?" pouted Albus, slightly offended. That was a really fond memory! Being Sorted into the noble House of his family? There was little in his memory that could compare to how joyous he felt after that occurrence. It felt a little bit like his father was insulting him by suggesting that wasn't a happy enough experience. Was there anything else he could pick to satisfy his father?

Maybe something someone had done for him? A present he'd gotten? A birthday?

That was it—his seventh birthday, the day he found out that he _wasn't_ a Squib. That was sure to do it. What could be more exciting than finding out you were attending Hogwarts? He readied himself again and tried to act as Harry had said, losing himself in the memory; as he shifted his stance, his first wand rustled in his pocket.

"Hold on," said Albus, switching the wands. "Maybe this wand will be better, since I'm more used to it. I should use this one."

"That makes sense," said Harry nodding.

Albus stowed away his new wand and readied his old one. He basked in the memory of realizing that he'd done magic, running off to all of his cousins who hugged and congratulated him, laughing with his family the next morning about how he'd obliterated the entire house…

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

His heart jumped as he saw something emerge from his wand—

But it was only a puff of black smoke.

"_Black_ smoke?" said Harry, evidently startled. "_Black_ smoke? That's what usually happens when people purposefully pick a bad memory—what was the memory you chose there?"

"When I did magic for the first time!" protested Albus. It was a great memory! He'd never been happier… he was sure of it! What better memory could he choose? He stared at his wand, as if it were the wands' fault.

At that moment, while he was staring at the wand, a strange feeling crept its way out of his wand, through his fingers and up his arm, tightening his shoulder. He gently placed his wand down on the couch and stared at it; the foreign feeling left.

"What's the matter?" asked his father, walking forward.

"It felt… weird," said Albus. "My wand feels weird. It doesn't feel right."

"I'm sure it's just because you're using two different wands," said Harry. "You're only used to the feeling of your first wand, but now you're using a second. It'll take some getting used to, and I'm sure both wands will feel odd until you're used to having two separate wands. I had to use a different wand at one point and it definitely felt odd."

Albus shook his head. "That was _too_ weird," he said. "It felt like something was wrong with the wand."

"I don't think so," said Harry. "Wands are mysterious; it might just be reacting strangely to the charm. Do you want to keep going?"

"I do," said Albus firmly, and he started practicing again.

Nothing, not even black smoke, came out of his wand after that. He attempted the charm with many different memories, from beating Aidan in the dueling tournament to getting accepted into the A.R.M. program, but nothing seemed to make any difference.

"Don't feel bad about it," said Harry. "It's nothing wrong with you. People would probably be astonished to learn that I'm trying to teach you the Patronus Charm before you're even in your third year. It's not even covered in the Hogwarts curriculum, because even if you succeed at doing the charm, it's implausibly difficult to perform under the stress of the exact sort of situation you need it."

"Do you think there'll be Dementors around?" asked Albus, worried.

"There already are," said Harry. "They're multiplying again. This time, fortunately, we can drive them back, because Muggles know about them and we don't have to worry about using the Patronus Charm in public—it won't get you criminally prosecuted anymore." He laughed, apparently at a memory.

"Will they attack people?"

"Probably not," said Harry. "They know that there would be severe consequences if they're aggressive."

"Can Dementors be killed?" asked Albus, surprised.

"No," said Harry. "But they can be… stymied. We can find them because of the effects they have at close range, and when confronted by enough Patronuses—or just enough happiness and love in general—they will meld into the gloom and shadows until the conditions are ripe for them to gain enough energy and escape again. The conditions I'm referring to are fear and despair, which unfortunately we have a lot of right now, but we can still give Dementors harsh punishments by banishing them for a while. They'll also merge back into the darkness if they haven't been well-fed, which is why they're often out and about feeding on Muggles just slightly. If they feed further, or if they go so far as to Kiss an innocent person, then we hunt them down. So, out of this fact grew an understanding—a truce, really, not exactly an understanding—we don't banish them at their slightest appearance, and they don't Kiss as a rule." He scratched his sideburns and sighed. "But if they break on that truce, the situation is likely to go out of control and we'll have to hunt them all down before any more damage is done. Which would be exactly what the Auror Office _doesn't_ need—more distractions from the problems we've already got. The Muggle extremists, the Wizard extremists, and now even the _Squib_ extremists."

It was a little too much information to process immediately, but Albus got the gist—Dementors were evil, and the Auror Office was severely overworked.

"You're tired, your Kinesis has got to be low after all that practice," said Harry. "Rest. Get some good sleep. We'll go at it again tomorrow."

Albus nodded, but he wasn't really paying attention. His thoughts were flying around, from when he tested out his newest wand and his old wand burned a hole in the pocket, to the black smoke coming out of his old wand, to the eerie feeling his old wand provoked in his arm. What was going on?

O

Everything had come so easily for Albus in the first two years of his Hogwarts career, and so it was immensely frustrating when he couldn't get the Patronus Charm down. Not a single wisp of silver was seen all through the last three weeks of summer break. He couldn't tell if his father was surprised by the lack of results; he just told Albus to continue practicing the charm at school, but only on weekends, when he wasn't tired out from his classes. Albus vowed to have his Patronus down at least before he returned for the Christmas holidays—then, at least, he'd have beaten his father, who didn't master the spell until the second term of his third year, and his brother, who only got it right before entering his fourth year.

Thinking about how badly he was doing on the Patronus Charm, however, would certainly only hinder his efforts to master it—he had to be happy. For now, he put the thoughts out of his mind. Soon, he would be getting to school, and shortly after that, he was going to start learning about Diwandology. There, he would figure out what the problem was with his wands, and fix it; then, he would be able to cast any spell he wanted. He was sure of it.

* * *

_**Few general announcements now...**_

_**Thanks to Andy for making the cover again! It's pretty awesome, though he said he might continue to improve it. He is also working on the cover art for the fourth book, which will be posted as my profile picture on the day that this story reaches 300 reviews, if it does.**_

_**Speaking of which... THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed! 34 in the first chapter! Holy cow. If that keeps up, I'll have to make good on my promise before we're even halfway through this book!**_

_**The reason I issued that challenge is because I REALLY want everyone's feedback possible. If you didn't like a certain part of the chapter, tell me so I can improve it. If you liked a certain part of the chapter, tell me so I can write more like it! If you thought something seemed out of place or out of character, let me know so I can correct it. And if you were confused on something, tell me so I can tell you what I meant, AND so I can make those sorts of things clearer in the future. If you just liked the chapter in general, you can say that too; it always makes me feel all warm inside. Just make sure that you ARE actually saying something in the review-nobody's done this yet, but please, don't review just to give +1 to the review total. I love feedback! If you have something to tell me that you don't want to put in a review, you can PM me, too!**_

_**And as always, see you next week!**_


	3. The Exchange

_**Ok, apparently this chapter wasn't visible when I first uploaded it for some reason. Ostensibly the problem fixed itself without my intervention, because by the time I got back to the computer people had already reviewed on Chapter 3, but just in case something goes wrong again, I've deleted and re-uploaded the chapter; sorry about the double notification.**_

* * *

_**See the very bottom of my profile page for an explanation on Kinesis, which is a recurring mention in this series that may need refreshing like the mulunctapoli. (UPDATE: Just got really busy, so that likely won't be appearing until next week's upload.)**_

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

THE EXCHANGE

O

"You should kiss Holly," whispered Alec. "_That'd_ get you some happy memories; you'd get off a Patronus in no time!"

Albus punched his Ravenclaw friend in the arm, trying not to blush. But at the same time that he acted as though that suggestion had been a joke, he started to wonder whether that would actually work. He still hadn't been able to conjure his Patronus before leaving for Hogwarts.

Doors started slamming all around. Their compartment contained Albus, Alec, Holly, Mia, Exo, Kolby, and Eben. Lily and Hugo had found some fellow first years, and seemed to have bonded immediately like Albus, Alec, Aidan, and Eftan.

Except that Eftan hadn't really been a part of the group for a while. Recently, he hadn't sought out opportunities to study with them or to sit with them to watch the Quidditch matches. He hadn't written very much over the summer, either. It seemed that he wasn't very good friends with anyone, except Sylvester. And he'd passed by their compartment on the train just a little while before. He wasn't really a part of the group anymore, which made Albus a little sad. But then again, he'd always been reserved, and had never really been particularly enthusiastic about any of their plans, whether it was taking Exo to the eclipse festival or practicing dueling in an empty classroom. Eftan was, plain and simple, a loner.

"Where's Aidan?" asked Alec; they'd been saving a seat for him, but he wasn't around.

"Not sure," said Mia.

Aidan then came running by the door of their compartment, and skidded to a stop when he noticed his friends. He jumped in and took the empty seat, looking around. "Where's Eftan?"

"Not sitting with us," said Albus, shrugging.

"I have some really, really cool news, guys," said Aidan, bouncing up and down on his seat.

"I can tell," laughed Exo, who was finally comfortable around everyone in their friend group. "What is it?"

"I think I'm a distant heir of Godric Gryffindor!" he boasted.

"_What!_" yelled Alec, pulling Aidan in and shaking his shoulders as Kolby and Eben gawked. "That's _so cool!_"

"No way!" said Mia, impressed.

"How do you know?" asked Holly.

"My dad's heritage has been traced back to the Platoni-Moor family of Venice," said Aidan. "And everyone knows that Enrico Platoni married Godric Gryffindor's granddaughter Iris!"

"If by 'everyone' you meant 'weirdoes,' then yes, everyone knows that," said Alec, rolling his eyes.

"But… then… why are you in Hufflepuff?" asked Eben.

Aidan shrugged. "Don't know… but if Gryffindor is my ancestor, then I have like a million other ancestors from that time period, so I'm barely any percent Gryffindor anymore."

"Hey!" said Alec, snapping his fingers.

Everyone looked at him.

"Maybe that's why Sylvester hates your guts!" he announced triumphantly.

Aidan blinked. "Sylvester hates my guts?"

"He hasn't mentioned it to you, but he can't stand your company," said Alec happily. "And he doesn't really know why. But Sylvester's a Parselmouth! So maybe he's a descendant of Slytherin, and you guys despise each other because you're descended from two of the greatest rivals of all time!"

Aidan looked around. "Gee. Er, maybe."

"But Sylvester is Muggle-born," said Kolby. "Could he really be a descendent of Slytherin?"

"If someone was born a Squib into the pure-blood-crazy Slytherin family," suggested Exo, "they would probably have been disowned, and I doubt their lineage would have been traced. If they married into Muggle families, it's entirely possible that the gene could just have randomly resurfaced in Sylvester and his aunt Adelina."

It made sense to Albus, but he felt bad about the way Squibs had been treated. Was this why they were getting organized and attacking wizards?

A voice drifted into the quiet compartment from the hall.

"I'm really excited for this whole thing," said a boy with a very clear American accent. "The A.R.M. program just sounded like the coolest idea—I'm surprised no one has tried introducing Diwandology into school curriculums before, even if just for graduate education. I can't wait to start."

Past their door walked a boy with very short blond hair and comically large blue eyes. His chin was small and narrow; his ears were large; his nose was tiny. Mia and Holly let out barely audible gasps when this very good-looking boy walked by. He was followed by Candice Carlen. He looked into their compartment, and when he saw that it was full, he moved on.

"Was he talking about the A.R.M. program?" asked Albus, frowning. "I thought that was restricted to third year students… but I've definitely never seen him before."

"Me neither," said Alec.

"Are there exchange students coming this year or something?" asked Aidan. "I know a few students were going out to other schools from Hogwarts. Are there any coming in?"

All gazes fell upon Exo.

"Er. Yes," said Exo. "There are. Sorry. Thought you guys knew that."

"No, we didn't!" exclaimed Albus. "Is there a new kid in our class? What House is he in?"

"They're going to be Sorted with the first years," replied Exo.

Albus wondered if this kid was likeable, and whether they would become friends.

"Do you know his name?" asked Mia.

"I think it's Lucas," said Exo. "Dad said there was someone coming in from an American school, joining for the A.R.M. program. Apparently he's a child prodigy."

"Like we need any more child prodigies," snorted Alec. "What with Rose, and Aidan, and perfect little Albus Potter—"

"Stop calling me that," groaned Albus.

"I'm calling you perfect and you're upset?"

"Lucas will probably be Ravenclaw," guessed Holly.

"Yeah, I feel like other schools would only send us their best, to make a good impression," said Albus. "I'll bet Ravenclaw will be the most popular among the exchange students. How many of them are there?"

"Seven," said Exo. "From Japan, Peru, Brazil, France, two from the United States, and, er…" He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think. "Oh! And Germany. Dad knows the Headmaster at Wurcastra Schule der Magie."

"Vur-whatta-what duh whatty?" asked Alec, sniggering.

"The Wurcastra School of Magic," said Exo, glaring. "The best school in Germany? Their headmaster, Professor Engodska, is a good friend of my dad's. Professor Engodska's grandnephew goes to Durmstrang, too, and he's in his seventh year, so we might see him, considering how it's the Triwizard Tournament this year."

"I keep forgetting that," said Kolby, "and then remembering it, and getting all excited all over again."

"Did you say there was someone from France?" asked Eben.

"Yeah, there's someone from Beauxbatons coming here," said Exo.

"They'd better not get chosen as the Hogwarts champion," growled Alec. "Are you sure she wasn't sent here as part of some sinister plot to replace a Hogwarts champion with a Beauxbatons champion?"

Mia giggled quietly as Exo stared at Alec.

"Pretty sure," said Exo finally.

The train rumbled on.

After a lull in the conversation, Albus turned to Holly. "Hey."

"Hey what?" she asked, smiling.

"You remember that riddle that you couldn't tell me the answer to?" he asked. "Our first year? What happens when an unstoppable spell meets an unbreakable shield?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding and smirking.

"Well… can you tell me the answer to that now?" he asked nicely.

"Nope," said Holly, grinning.

"What!" protested Albus. "Come on! Why can't you tell me?"

"It's a secret!" asserted Holly.

"It's not a secret anymore, it was the password two years ago!"

"One and a half, and it might be reused," maintained Holly. "We never know!"

Albus turned to Alec.

"She's right," he affirmed apologetically, shrugging. "We're not supposed to tell."

Albus huffed and folded his arms.

"You know," said Aidan, obviously trying to change the subject, "I've been so excited for my A.R.M. classes, I've forgotten about the others. I can't wait to see what we're going to be learning in Arithmancy, or Ancient Runes."

"I'm going to guess you'll be learning Arithmancy in Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes in Ancient Runes," quipped Alec.

"Oh, thank goodness you said that," said Aidan, a hand over his eyes. "Because I thought for sure we'd be learning about Dark magic in those classes."

"Wait, you did?" said Alec.

Aidan had forgotten that Alec was laughably bad at picking up on sarcasm.

"No," said Aidan.

"Hey, Exo," said Mia. "Did you ask your dad how old Professor Dixon was?"

Exo frowned. "Right… I forgot about that."

"You know, it could just be Professor Dixon's father or grandfather who wrote the book we saw," noted Holly.

"Oh," said Exo. "Good point."

Albus racked his memory, but there was something he'd never asked Alec.

"Hey, Alec—what regular electives are you taking this year?"

"Just Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies," he answered. "I don't want to push myself too hard—I might even drop Muggle Studies if it gets to be too much."

"How about you guys?" asked Albus, gesturing around the compartment so that Alec didn't feel singled out.

"Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination," said Mia.

"All of them," said Holly.

"Same as Mia," said Eben.

"Same as Mia," echoed Kolby.

"Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes," finished Exo just as there was a rolling sound from the aisle.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" said the extremely old and very kindly lady who ran the trolley, passing by their door.

"Yes, ma'am, I'd like a pack of raspberry Tonguetinglers," said Alec.

"A box of Every-Flavor Beans," said Aidan.

"Chocolate frogs for me," said Albus. "Two, please."

He took the frogs and eagerly opened up the pack to see which card he'd gotten. The first was a familiar face—Kingsley Shacklebolt. He already knew all about Kingsley, of course, but he read the card anyway just to see what it said about him.

_Kingsley Shacklebolt was a former Auror and Minister for Magic between 1998 and 2008, one of the most popular of modern times. In his tenure, he reformed the Ministry, stamping out corruption and bestowing rights to the oppressed. He was critically injured rescuing Aurors in a raid in 2008, but survived. Percy Weasley, his Senior Undersecretary, succeeded him as Acting Minister._

Albus felt slightly bad for his Uncle Percy—he had to live up to Kingsley's name, now that Kingsley was unable to act as Minister due to his injuries. Kingsley did often offer Uncle Percy advice, though, as Albus knew. He tore open his second Chocolate Frog, stuffed it in his mouth, and did a double-take at the card.

"Herpo the Foul?" he choked, swallowing the frog much too quickly and grimacing at the brief wriggles in his throat and stomach. "There are Dark Wizards on Chocolate Frog cards?"

"Yeah," said Alec. "I have Morgana and Grindelwald, too."

"That's probably a bad thing," murmured Aidan. "It's kind of like a reward."

"I don't think they murder people just to get on Chocolate Frog cards," said Alec.

Albus scanned his card of Herpo the Foul.

_One of the most notorious Dark wizards of all time, Herpo created the foulest of the foul arts—basilisks, Fiendfyre, and some too horrific to mention. Lord Voldemort allegedly studied Herpo's tomb to decode his findings; whether he succeeded is unknown, because Herpo purportedly recruited people to assist in the study of Dark magic, then murdered them to keep his knowledge secret from all else._

"Creepy," he said.

He wondered what it was that was "too horrific to mention." Could it be Horcruxes? _That's_ definitely not something they would put on a Chocolate Frog card.

When the train had been running for a while, and they were all full of candy and conversation, they changed into their Hogwarts robes and prepared to disembark.

"This is going to be an interesting year," said Aidan, twiddling his thumbs while the train slowed down to a stop. "The Triwizard Tournament… the exchange students… our new classes, especially since we're the first students to take A.R.M. classes…"

"I wonder what'll be the first thing we learn to do with two wands," pondered Alec.

There was a scraping sound as all the doors opened, and they filed out of the train quickly into a slight mist.

Albus gave a start as he exited the train and saw the thestrals among the carriages—he still wasn't used to the sight. And he knew he shouldn't stare at them too long, lest he relive the deaths in his sleep the next night. He wondered how much was too much to stare at a thestral, and chanced a further glance. Their dragon-like heads and reptilian skin made them extremely intimidating, but there was something almost charming in the way they bobbed their heads and pawed at the ground like normal horses.

"What're you staring at?" asked Alec.

"The thestrals," answered Exo for Albus, who remembered that Exo had witnessed the same deaths. Exo climbed into a carriage with Aidan, Kolby, and Eben. Mia and Holly got into the carriage that Albus and Alec had boarded.

"Look," said Holly, pointing outside. "It's that adorable blond kid, Lucas."

Albus leaned out the door before it closed to look.

Lucas was approaching a nearby carriage with Candice, Rose, and Pallie.

"Can you really?" Candice was saying to him.

Lucas nodded; Albus could just barely see the movement in the darkness—and then he blinked, and Lucas was gone.

Candice cried out in glee, and Lucas reappeared by her side. She hugged him and started complimenting him furiously as they climbed into the carriage right before the doors closed and the thestrals began dragging them up towards the castle.

"What was that ridiculous squeal?" asked Alec, caustic as always.

"That was Candice," said Albus, still trying to work out exactly what he'd seen.

"What happened? Why's she so excited? Did he look at her? I feel like just a glance from that pretty boy would get Candice to scream, she's shallow like that."

Albus laughed. "No, he—it was weird, I was watching and—he disappeared."

"Disappeared?" asked Holly. "Like Disapparated?"

"It was dark and misty and I couldn't really see too well," said Albus. "But to me, I just blinked and he was gone."

"Exo said he was supposed to be a child prodigy," said Mia. "Maybe he's already learned to Apparate."

"Can you Apparate this close to Hogwarts?" asked Holly.

"I don't think he'd have been allowed to learn to Apparate," observed Albus.

"You don't know that, maybe America is weird," said Alec. "Weirder than we already know it is, I mean."

There was a soft trickle that indicated it had started to rain. Once the carriages had pulled up to the castle, they ran inside as fast as possible, to avoid the rain and to avoid Peeves. The poltergeist was carrying an apparently endless stash of freezing cold water in buckets and dropping them on whomever he could catch.

Albus refused to pass Holly as they ran into the school, making sure Peeves wasn't going to target her. Right before they were safe, Alec shoved Mia out of the way of one of the deluges, getting drenched himself. Mia swooned over him all the way to the Great Hall after that, and looked distraught when she had to separate from him to go sit with the Hufflepuffs; Holly looked upset to have to leave Albus, too.

The first years wandered in a little while later, soaking wet and shivering with cold and nervous anticipation. Albus scanned the crowd and found Lily and Hugo. Hugo looked terrified but determined; Lily was calm and quiet, looking around happily at the Hogwarts scenery.

With a glance backwards, Albus saw that there were seven chairs at the end of the hall, occupied by seven foreign students, including the handsome blond, Lucas.

When all of the first years were at the front of the Hall, Professor Longbottom wordlessly dragged a four-legged stool to the center and placed a bedraggled hat upon it, drawing the eyes of every student in the hall. The veteran students all knew what was going to happen, but most of the first years eyed the hat warily.

With a twitch, the Sorting Hat stood up, and a rip opened wide at the brim like a mouth, and it began to sing:

"_A thousand years ago, the Founders_

_Would have never thought there'd be_

_A time when the entire world_

_Could live in total harmony._

_Back then, they stuck with those like them;_

_That's what loyalty was about._

_And even some of our fair Founders_

_Wished to shut the others out!_

_Said Salazar, 'I'll not teach those_

_Who aren't like my noble kin._

_If ancestry is pure, then they_

_Are fit to be a Slytherin.'_

_Said Rowena, 'If in their minds_

_They lack the drive to stamp out flaws,_

_Then they are not quite ready yet;_

_Not fit to be with Ravenclaws.'_

_Said Godric, 'If they turn from fights,_

_Or hide from battle, flee from war,_

_Then courage must they gain;_

_they are not fit to be a Gryffindor.'_

_One Founder now was left to speak,_

_For she had now heard quite enough._

_Said Helga, 'Every student here_

_Is fit to be a Hufflepuff._

_I'll coach them to be brave and bright!_

_No heritage shall halt their reach!_

_And if you all think otherwise—_

_Then none of you are fit to teach.'_

_Now, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw,_

_They thought this through, and deemed it true._

_Why only take the brave and bright?_

_They'd teach the others to be, too!_

_One man, however, did not listen._

_He still thought his lot was best._

_And though they pled, he would not budge;_

_he would not tutor all the rest._

_Hence when they tried to force him,_

_He just packed his bag and walked away._

_He still thought he was right—but then,_

_what do we think of him today?_

_You can be brave and bright and great,_

_But if your heart and soul are weak,_

_You might go down in history,_

_Just not as you might wish or seek._

_And so tradition lingers—_

_We will Sort you with those most like you._

_But this is not a separation;_

_You must live in harmony, too._

_You must look past the petty walls_

_Of House and blood and faith and race._

_This day, we take a step that way._

_So welcome, every foreign face!_

_The world must come together now,_

_As common friends with common foes,_

_To fight the fight while hand in hand,_

_And open doorways long since closed."_

This was maybe the longest song Albus had heard out of the Sorting Hat, likely the best, and certainly the loudest applause that followed. The Hat bowed to the four tables, gave a nod to the exchange students in the back, and then sat still, waiting for the applause to die down and the first student to come forward.

Professor Longbottom unrolled his long scroll of parchment as per usual.

"When I call you up, please sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat over your head, and you will be Sorted," he announced. "Julio Aguarta!"

Scrawny Julio (all of them were scrawny) bounded up to the Sorting Hat and jammed it on his head as though it would try to escape if he didn't act fast. The Sorting Hat tilted its tip in contemplation and then yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

Julio tottered off to the Slytherin table looking somewhat upset; Albus wondered if the recent climate had once again given Slytherin House a bad reputation. But they welcomed him warmly, mostly, and Julio relaxed.

Gryffindor and Slytherin traded a few: Wyatt Andersen, Riley's brother, joined him in Gryffindor, followed by Arsenio Anitha, Elizabeth's brother, joining her in Slytherin. Cyrus Ashdown went to Gryffindor and Prudence Auburn headed off to Slytherin. Listening only to see if there were any familiar names, Albus heard "Bayroot, Naomi" go to Hufflepuff before "Bell, Cole," Palila's brother, walked over to the Gryffindor table. "Bidgey, Robin" became the first Ravenclaw, and then there were more first years… and more… a never-ending wave of first years… until…

"Finch-Fletchley, Lauren!"

Aidan's half-sister trotted up to the stool and put on the hat so eagerly that she didn't even bother to sit on the stool. The hat quickly shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Lauren joined her brother in Hufflepuff and started up a conversation with some other first years who were already there as Professor Longbottom called out, "Fireborn, Chandler!"

Chandler had bright orange hair and worse freckles than most of the Weasleys. In fact, Albus thought he'd heard that the Fireborns were not too distant relatives of the Weasleys. He was sorted into Gryffindor, and there was a long drought before the next name that Albus recognized.

"Madley, Peter!"

Albus only vaguely recognized it because Mrs. Finch-Fletchley had mentioned Peter Madley the first time he'd met Aidan. This was Aidan's cousin; he was also sorted into Hufflepuff. Ninnekin… Nymad… Overto… Pelton…

"Potter, Lily!"

Albus breathed in deeply, crossing his fingers for Gryffindor. Lily wandered nervously up to the hat, and took it tremulously. Her cool facade had faded, leaving the ruffled eleven-year-old girl that she'd rarely been, except when pouting about her inability to attend Hogwarts early. She lifted up the hat and squeezed her eyes shut as she let it fall down over her eyes.

The hat took longer for Lily than it had taken for any of the others. A minute passed. Two. Three. _Eight full minutes_ passed, and Albus began to sweat.

He looked closer, and saw that she was mouthing something: _Gryffindor. Gryffindor. Gryffindor._

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus's jaw dropped.

He heard James shout, "No _way!_" from down the table as Lily slowly removed the hat. She slowly advanced to the Ravenclaw table, which was going berserk at her arrival, while the Gryffindor table looked on in shock. Lily had been asking for Gryffindor—but didn't get it. Hadn't his father said that the Sorting Hat takes choice into account?

But he'd asked the hat himself, a few months earlier when he was waiting in Wilcox's office. The hat didn't always let you choose—sometimes it argued with you.

"Lily must be _really _smart to go to Ravenclaw when she was asking for Gryffindor," said Rose, who apparently had also noticed Lily's mouthing.

Cliff and Clyde Quinn were next to be Sorted; they were Abby's twin brothers. "Twin Quinns," laughed Riley. Albus wasn't paying attention, though. His head was still reeling that Lily had been booted out of Gryffindor by the hat—why hadn't it put him in Slytherin if it put her in Ravenclaw?

Renington Rave… Gryffindor. Trudy Reade… Slytherin. Ryanne Reagan… Gryffindor.

"Rocksbone, Sophie!"

Albus recognized the adorable little girl who was often seen in the Magical Menagerie, as her father ran the business. She was Sorted into Ravenclaw, so at least Lily had a friend whom she knew a little bit.

Royan Stone went to Gryffindor… Albus yawned… Boris Underwood went to Hufflepuff… Albus zoned out entirely…

"Weasley, Hugo!"

Albus snapped back to his senses as red-haired and pale-faced Hugo entered the fray, one of only two people left. He was clearly worried about his Sorting after Lily hadn't made it to Gryffindor—but the hat didn't even take a second to decide for him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, and Hugo ran over, somewhat relieved, but somewhat guilty as he cast a look to his cousin. Lily looked slightly lonely amongst the Ravenclaws—and indeed, she was the only one in the Potter-Weasley family not sitting at the rightmost table.

Zackary Zuckerman was the last first year, and he went to Ravenclaw. When he was settled in, Wilcox stood up again.

"Time to pair the mentors, before we get to our guests!" he announced. "Professor Longbottom, if you would?"

"Remain in your seats, first years," stated Professor Longbottom. "I will read the names of the first years once more, and the Sorting Hat will proclaim the fourth year mentor whom he has decided would be your ideal match. The mentors and mentees will please stand up when your name is called so that we can identify you. I will go by House this time instead of only by last name. We will begin now."

Hugo's mentor was named Abbott Ashdown; Albus had heard the surname several times before. Lily's mentor was called Keira Daley. Those were the only names he remembered; he was hungry and tired and upset that his sister wasn't in his House, and he knew that there were still seven students yet to be Sorted.

Wilcox stood up again to address the Hall when Professor Longbottom was finished reading the names and the Sorting Hat was finished pronouncing the mentors. Their headmaster clasped his hands together and grinned excitedly at the new students.

"I have not yet said 'Welcome' to our exchange students," he said, bouncing on his heels like a giddy schoolboy. "That's because here at Hogwarts, we have a special way of welcoming new students, which you've just witnessed. If you could please come up after you've been introduced, and do exactly what you've just seen our first year students do. But whichever House becomes your own, please, become friends with as many of our fine students as possible!"

Professor Longbottom was taking his seat; apparently Wilcox wanted to read the names of the exchange students himself.

Wilcox cleared his throat and began. "All the way from Mahoutokoro in Japan, we have: Ayano Aokuro, joining our seventh years to take the English N.E.W.T.s!"

An Asian girl in the back stood up and took the walk up the Hall to the stool. Albus felt like he'd seen this girl before, or at least an adult who looked a lot like her. She had jet-black hair tied back in a bun with a blue ribbon; her eyes were thin and black and shifty. She looked actually slightly frightening, and Albus guessed Slytherin.

She sat on the stool—it looked hilariously tiny, since she was six years older than the students who had previously sat there—and placed the hat on her head. It contemplated as she sat indifferently, and then the hat bellowed, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table cheered so loudly it was almost painful; Ayano walked over to join the Slytherins. With her mean demeanor and apparently constant sneer, she fit right in with the Slytherin seventh years. She would have been a quite pretty girl if not for the curled lip.

"From Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France, we have: Emma Fatique, joining our sixth year students to prepare for our N.E.W.T. exams!"

Emma was a haughty-looking girl, also with jet-black hair. She had very pale skin and very red fingernails and lips. She walked up with her nose in the air and jammed the hat on her head a little forcefully. It again shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

Emma walked smugly over to the Slytherin table, soaking in their applause; she sat next to the handsomest boy she could find there, and instantly began a conversation with him, ignoring her fellow exchange students' Sorting.

"Now, from Germany's Wurcastra School of Magic, please welcome: Stefan von Konig, also joining us for his sixth year to take N.E.W.T.s!"

Stefan was the first exchange student who looked like a pleasant person. He also had a bit of a superior demeanor, but it wasn't nearly as noticeable as Emma's; he clearly was making an effort not to let it shine through as much. He was sorted into Ravenclaw to thunderous applause, and even gave a little bow to the staff before he joined them.

"From the United States of America, out of the Salem Witches' Institute, Lucas Lotor will be joining our third year students! He has come for the purpose of participating in the new A.R.M. program at Hogwarts."

The blond boy, clearly the youngest of the exchange students by far, walked up to the Sorting Hat. Albus eyed him down as he passed. What had this kid done when Albus had seen him disappear? Disapparated? Turned invisible?

Albus distinctly saw Holly sigh as Lucas walked by.

Now, he had a problem with this kid.

Lucas slid the Sorting Hat over his head, and proceeded to stall the hat for almost four minutes. Finally, the decision was made:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Albus clapped with the others, but not as enthusiastically. He wagered this kid was smart—he'd been sent by his school, and was joining the A.R.M. program—but Albus was going to show him up.

"Newly arrived from the Bruxa River Institute of Brazil, please greet Carlito Pistolez! He will also be joining our sixth year students."

Carlito was a rugged-looking brunet, with a legitimate beard already at sixteen. He voyaged to the front to be sorted into Ravenclaw, and joined their table. Two exchange students remained.

"From the Consuela Pretera Academy in Peru, give a warm welcome to Beatriz Quispe, who, again, will be with our fine sixth years!"

"Ugh," said Riley.

Unfortunately, Riley was right on the ball this time. Beatriz was, put simply, very unattractive. Her scraggly brown hair did a poor job of hiding her oddly-shaped head and her facial features were all slightly distorted and ill-proportioned. Albus always tried not to judge based on appearance, but he did secretly hope he wouldn't see Beatriz too much.

She ventured to the front and was also sorted into Ravenclaw—that made three for Ravenclaw, two for Slytherin, and one for Gryffindor.

"And last but certainly not least, and again joining our sixth years, we have Bethany Warner, joining us from the Katarina Pinzel School of Sorcery!"

Bethany was very pretty and very humble-looking. Her head had been slightly in her shoulders as she sat alone in the back, and she avoided her gaze from everyone as she walked up. Her ruffled blonde hair caught Louis's attention fairly quickly, and he followed her with his eyes all the way to the hat. Albus remembered that Louis had a thing for blondes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" declaimed the Sorting Hat. The Hufflepuffs cheered at having finally received an exchange student, and Bethany walked over to the table and sat still, looking quite meek.

"Thank you so much for waiting, everybody!" said Wilcox. "Now, eat! Eat!"

The plates, at long last, filled up with food—and it was much more exotic food than usual. Delicious smells wafted through the Hall as everyone fervently dug in.

Lucas Lotor, having noticed that he was sitting around all of the first years, moved himself down the table. Immediately, every girl in years two through four shuffled aside to make it obvious that there was room next to them. Lucas smiled softly and settled in between Exo and Albus.

Albus hadn't intended to make it seem as though a space existed between him and his best Gryffindor friend, and he slid over awkwardly.

"Hi, I'm Lucas," said Lucas in his American accent, extending his hand to Albus.

But before Albus could take the hand, Lucas gasped and pointed at his face. "Hey!" he said.

"Albus Potter," said Albus, slightly irked—he knew that Lucas was connecting him to his father.

"Potter, like Harry Potter?" said Lucas excitedly.

"That's the one, he's my dad."

"That's sick!"

Albus recoiled a bit. "_What?_ What about that is disgusting?"

"Oh," said Lucas. "Sorry. American words. That's _awesome._"

Albus raised an eyebrow. Was Lucas making fun of him?

Lucas turned to Exo next. "Hi, Lucas Lotor, nice to meet you."

"Exorian Wilcox," said Exo, shaking his hand.

"Wilcox—no relation to Professor Wilcox?"

"No, he's my dad. Is that sick, too?"

"That's pretty sick-nasty," agreed Lucas.

Exo snorted.

"_Americans,_" said Riley, laughing.

Lucas introduced himself next to Riley, and then everyone around, each time saying his full name even though everyone obviously knew it by now; he dug into his food with abysmal manners, and was atrocious at making conversation, and…

Albus quickly realized that he was trying to find every flaw possible with this boy already. He tried to set aside the fact that Holly found him cute, and vowed to make at least an attempt to be friendly.

The food was gone in about half an hour, and the room was collectively too well-fed and sleepy to make much conversation. Wilcox stood up once more to address them.

"It's about time to disperse," he said. "Tomorrow starts your first week of classes! But first, a few announcements. Congratulations to our new Head Boy and Girl, Tristan Tanbark and Molly Weasley!"

Molly beamed during the applause; she'd earned it. Twelve Outstanding O.W.L.s, two victories in the Dueling Tournament (or maybe more, Albus hadn't seen her in her fourth year and before), top of her year… He hailed from a very smart family.

"Yes, congratulations to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on producing those two brilliant students! Congratulations also to all new prefects.

"Under no circumstances is anyone allowed in the forest at any time. It's called the 'Forbidden Forest,' I don't know what about this is so vague. To enforce this rule, we will be deducting one hundred points from any student who ventures in there."

This was new. Many of the students looked around, puzzled; what had mandated this huge increase in punishment? Was it because of the dust cloud incident?

"Magic is not to be used in the corridors. Quidditch try-outs are going to be held in the second week, so if you would like to play for your House team, contact Madam Duopold and your House Quidditch Captain for details. First years, however, are not allowed their own broomsticks. Mentors must schedule a mandatory meeting with their mentees, some time in the second week of classes. If you're having trouble connecting with your mentor or mentee, see any teacher about your options.

"And finally, there are four new members of our staff this year!" finished Wilcox, gesturing to the far right of the High Table and then the far left.

"_Four?_" said Riley, incredulous.

"They're for A.R.M.," explained Scott.

"Firstly, on the far right—okay, well, it's the far left to all of you—we have Yohn Dixon, our professor of Diwand Spells!"

Albus glanced over, and was slightly startled. Apparently, it _had_ been this man who wrote the hundred-year-old book they'd all bought. He was older than any person that Albus had ever seen in his life. He clapped politely with the class, though, as Professor Dixon took fifteen seconds to stand up to bow. He sat back down slowly.

"I'd also like to introduce you to Jeffrey Skower, our professor of Wandless Magic!" said Wilcox.

Professor Skower stood up unenthusiastically. He had large eyebrows and a large mouth, and though he was probably not yet out of his thirties, he still had less hair than most of the other older male professors. What little he did was losing its color. He sat back down and leaned lackadaisically against the back of his chair, rocking back and forth on the back legs.

Wilcox next gestured to the far right of the High Table. "Flower Pratley is our new professor of Alternative Artifact Magic; give her a flower—oh, goodness, I'm sorry. Give her a hand!"

The Hall laughed as Professor Pratley stood up; she was not embarrassed. She wore a plain flowered Muggle dress which barely reached her knees, and she had a flower behind each ear above very ostentatious earrings. She had a rather thick figure, but carried herself very naturally. She curtsied politely before sitting back down on her chair on crossed legs rather than the usual sitting position.

"And our last professor left to introduce is Laney Norton, who will be teaching the class of Modern Magical Instruments!"

Laney was tall and thin and looked like a murderous giraffe. That was Albus's first impression, anyway; she glared down at them all from a height of at least six and a half feet with her hands curled into fists. She nodded to acknowledge them all and then sat down again, glaring at Wilcox. Was she just always glaring?

"Our newest additions to the staff will not always be around, unfortunately," said Wilcox. "Many of them have second jobs and, as they are only teaching one or two classes a week, there is little reason for them to stay. However, if you take the initiative to set up an appointment with any of them, they will address your concerns one-on-one.

"Now, one final announcement. The big one."

There was a rustling sound of shifting seats as everyone tuned in; they knew what this was about.

"The Triwizard Tournament will be held this year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The selection of the champions from Beauxbatons's own Grail of Lightning will take place on Halloween."

"The Grail of Lightning?" said Albus. "I thought it was the Goblet of Fire."

"Each school has their own magical cup," said Rose.

Wilcox continued. "If any student wishes to attend the three tasks and cheer on the Hogwarts champion—well, I mean, I suppose you could cheer on any of the champions, but it would be a bit traitorous to cheer on someone who wasn't from our own school—any student who wishes to attend is welcome to do so. The price of travel will be merely a Sickle per student.

"In addition, some of you will go for free. We are funding a group of the most academically talented students from each year, to accompany those from our school who have submitted their names and watch the selection on Halloween."

Albus exchanged excited glances with Rose.

"Those students will attend not only the selection on Halloween and all three of the events, but will also be given a tour of the school and sit in on several Beauxbatons classes as their special guests, seeing how the same concepts are taught in different educational systems. Students wishing to participate may apply starting tomorrow."

Wilcox clasped his hands together and smiled. "Finally, I release you," he said. "Good luck to everyone tomorrow! Foreign friends, feel free to seek out help from any staff member. First years, follow your prefects back to the dormitories. Exchange students, follow your friends, you don't have to awkwardly be the only older student following a prefect. Show them the ropes, everyone—point out the moving staircases and the trick steps and the fake doors and all that. Good night, sleep tight, and we will see you in the morning where we will hand out your schedules at breakfast. Adios, adeus, adieu, auf wiedersehen, ja mata ne, goodbye. Until tomorrow!"

Lucas tagged along with Exo and Albus; he appeared to be trying to make friends. Albus made himself friendly but distinctly placed himself between Lucas and Holly as they walked out. Holly kept craning her neck, however, which irritated Albus even further. What did this Lucas kid have that he didn't? Albus Potter was _famous!_

…_But only because of Dad._

Albus slumped and trudged back to the dormitories in more of a sour mood than he'd ever expected to have going back to Hogwarts. He looked forward to getting back to classes, to take his mind off of everything else, assuming everything else wouldn't follow him wherever he went.

* * *

_**Something new: Ask any question in the review, and I will address all of the previous week's questions at the end of the next chapter in this announcements space down here. Ask me anything about what you don't understand, or what you want to know more about-I've introduced a lot of concepts fleetingly, so if you want something explained further for some background into my HP world, feel free to ask. If you want to know how Andy or I thought of a character, or of a name, or even of a name of an inanimate object, like "the Wurcastra Schule der Magie" or "mulunctapoli," ask that, too! Reviewing in general lets me know that you've read and been thinking about what you're reading, which makes me so happy that it allows me to have the drive to write a one million word series. (this one.) Much appreciated! Love to all my reviewers! Remember, ask any question that you want about anything in the series so far, or how anything in the series was thought up, and I'll answer it at the end of next week's chapter unless it gives away a sizeable spoiler! (So, yeah, don't ask things like "what happens next" or "when will you stop teasing us about Ivan Siobor!")**_


	4. Shift of the Spotlight

_**Hi! Chapter four now. I like this one. Shows a bit of a different side to some of the characters.**_

_**There are already over 50 follows to this story. Wow. Thank you guys so much! 100 and I'll do double uploads for a month! And over 80 reviews! I'll reveal the title of the next book, and its cover, when we reach 300. But please don't review something stupid. Last week someone anonymous tried to review with just "Do you like pie?" I deleted it; it made me kind of upset that they didn't have anything to say about the story.**_

_**I'll post more background character information when I get the chance. Also, someone asked what House Teddy was in when he was here. I'd always imagined that to be Gryffindor. And don't worry, he's going to be important in the story. I haven't forgotten about Teddy.**_

_**Happy reading!**_

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

SHIFT OF THE SPOTLIGHT

O

The moment Albus finally saw what his schedule looked like, he grimaced and started to rethink his decision.

"Well, well," said Exo, leaning over to look at Albus's schedule. "Looks like perfect little Albus Potter is having second thoughts about packing his schedule with so many classes that he has zero breaks."

"What?" laughed Jonah, leaning over to look at Albus's schedule.

In his first two years, they had breakfast, a class, a break, a class, lunch, a double period, a class, and dinner, and Astronomy at eleven o'clock one night of the week. Now, he was facing breakfast, three classes, lunch, three classes (the first being a double period), dinner, whichever A.R.M. course he had that day, and Astronomy on Wednesdays. The only breaks were on Fridays during the time slots for Quidditch Studies and Current Events, the optional electives, which he also wanted to attend.

"It's your fault for taking thirteen courses," said Exo. "Twelve is hard enough!"

He had a different A.R.M. class every day after dinner—on Mondays, it was Diwand Spells; Tuesdays brought Wandless Magic; Wednesdays were Alternative Artifact Magic; and Modern Magical Instruments was on Thursdays. On Fridays, there appeared to be a double period in that slot, labeled "Rotation."

"What's Rotation?" Albus asked curiously.

Alec leaned over from the Ravenclaw table. "On Friday during our Rotation class, we have to spin in circles for two hours."

"What?"

"That's my guess, anyway. What were _you_ thinking 'Rotation' meant?"

"I'm going to say it probably means we'll have a different double period every week," said Albus. "Like, first week we'll have a Diwand Spells double period, then next week we'll have a Wandless Magic double period, and they'll rotate through four weeks at a time. Rotation."

"If you knew already, then why'd you need to ask?" said Alec, patting him on the back and then leaning back to the Ravenclaw table.

Albus scanned his schedule. He didn't have Herbology until Wednesday, which disappointed him. But today, he would be experiencing four new classes: Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Diwand Spells. He was looking forward to all of them.

"Hey," said Lucas, tapping him on the shoulder. "Would you mind showing me the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom?"

"Not at all," said Albus, giving a smile. "Did you have Defense Against the Dark Arts back in the Salem Witches' Institute?"

"No, we just had a course called Defensive Spellwork," said Lucas. "I know a lot of defense charms, like _Expelliarmus_ and _Effracturo_ and _Protego_—"

"You can do a Shield Charm?" asked Rose, impressed.

Lucas nodded. "I was a little bit ahead of my class, so my instructor let me start working on _Protego_."

"Can you do a Patronus?" asked Candice, leaning forward.

"Er, yes," said Lucas uncomfortably. He clearly did not enjoy being in the spotlight.

"Show us!" demanded Toby, looking excited.

"All right, then," said Lucas, standing up and raising his wand to the ceiling. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A blast of silver produced a shining raccoon which sailed up in the air doing playful cartwheels and front-flips and back-flips. Almost everyone in the Hall turned, and the ooh's and ah's echoed everywhere.

The raccoon faded and Lucas sat back down, reddening; he had a sly smile on his face.

"Wow!" said Candice. "When did you learn to do that?"

"Over the summer," said Lucas. "I have an awesome mentor. His name's Pascal Pratley—his wife Flower is actually teaching the Alternative Artifact Magic part of A.R.M. here. That's how I heard about the program, and I decided to apply for it."

"I bet you'll be the best in the class," said Candice. It couldn't have been any clearer that she was buttering him up.

"Oh. Thanks," said Lucas, reddening further.

Try as he might, Albus couldn't help but dislike this kid. The best in the class? That was him! Or Rose, rather. But he was usually the best out of the guys.

He'd show this kid up in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class for sure.

Breakfast ended, and he hauled up his bag and told Lucas to follow. They went up to the fourth floor and entered the new Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Professor Westerling was standing in the front of the room, holding a strange little ball of writhing yellow sludge. Most of the students in the class chose seats as far away from him as possible.

"Does anyone know what this is?" he asked once everyone had arrived. "Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"That's a Bloab," she said. "It takes residence in the homes of people who think they are ugly, and feeds off their emotions."

"Precisely," said Professor Westerling. "Five points to Gryffindor. Yes, the Bloab is a common household pest in the slums of most major cities. It will crawl into your house and grow as your self-esteem drops. The more it feeds off of your emotions, the uglier your physical appearance will become. These effects, however, will not be recognizable for several months at the least, so it is difficult to determine whether you have a Bloab infestation until years after it starts; by then, the person may have left their depressed state, though, and the Bloab may have already gone by the time you start looking for it. Does anyone know the spell that wards off a Bloab? Mr. Lotor?"

Lucas had been waving his hand almost as giddily as Rose. "The charm is _Qualamora,_" he said.

"Right on the Galleons. Five more points to Gryffindor. The spell _Qualamora_ is much like _Riddikulus,_ the spell used to ward off boggarts, if any of you have ever seen _Riddikulus_ in action. We'll be covering boggarts after Christmas. With _Qualamora,_ you must think of your best qualities, and the pride they give you must be channeled into your wand. You can't exterminate a Bloab infestation if you don't have any self-esteem. Would someone like to volunteer to dispose of this one?"

He held the Bloab up high and shook it; it jiggled like a plate of Jell-O. Most of the students in the room looked nauseous.

"Ah, excellent, Miss Quinn! Come up here, now… I'll get the others."

He placed the Bloab gently on the ground, then walked to a small closet in the back of the room and opened it up; inside were about three dozen wiggling blobs of yellow gunk. He started taking the other Bloabs out and lugging them to the front of the room. "Any time you're ready, Miss Quinn. Think of your best quality and jab your wand at the Bloab saying, '_Qualamora!_' That is really just about the only theory that you need to work this spell. Just don't botch the spell or that Bloab is going to get nasty. It's a simple spell, though, you should all be able to do it. Go."

As he continued carrying more Bloabs to the front, Abby strolled into position and pointed her wand at the Bloab. A smirk crossed her face; she barked, "_Qualamora!_"

The Bloab popped, showering the students in the front row with yellow goop.

"Ooh," said Professor Westerling, grimacing as everyone in the front row gagged in disgust, trying to wipe off the goop. "They usually don't pop that bad. Ah, well, it'll wipe off fairly easily. Thank you, Miss Quinn. I'd like someone else to demonstrate now! Albus, how about you?"

Albus lifted himself from his chair and walked up to the front. Professor Westerling placed another Bloab in the center of the room; the students in front leaned back. Albus concentrated; what were his best qualities?

He was smart. He was so smart that he was going to make this supposed child genius Lucas Lotor look like a first year. He'd rarely failed to learn a spell completely and immediately. This task would be no exception.

Feeling very confident in himself, he yelled, "_Qualamora!_"

His wand shivered and sparked, but the Bloab did not move. Instead, it started to grow.

"_Qualamora! Qualamora!_" shouted Professor Westerling frantically, dropping the Bloabs he was carrying and directing his wand towards Albus's creature. The giant Bloab popped, and everyone winced, but this one didn't make as much of a mess. "Good God, Albus, are you trying to make the entire room self-loathing? I told you, you must think of a good quality about yourself when you use that spell or it will go horribly wrong!"

"I _was_ thinking of one!" protested Albus loudly.

"We don't fool around in this class, Mr. Potter, not in the slightest, and we also do not talk back to our teachers with such attitude. Ten points from Gryffindor, please take your seat."

The Gryffindors in the room cast Albus an irritated glare. He tried to indicate with his body language that he hadn't done it on purpose. He glanced over at Lucas, who shrugged and cast him an apologetic glance.

What had _happened?_ Professor Westerling had even said this spell was a simple one. He was doing it right, too—he was a good student! What about that was wrong? Was it like the Patronus Charm, was he misunderstanding the memories he was supposed to recreate for the use? Was it too egocentric to call himself brilliant?

"Mr. Griffiths, would you like to try your hand? Go on, then…"

Eftan successfully vanquished his Bloab without a problem. So, in fact, did the entire rest of the class. Even Riley Andersen, who was at this point notorious for his apathy towards any assignment, took great delight in popping this little creature.

Maybe it was the effects of having so many Bloabs in one classroom, which exacerbated negative emotions, or maybe it was just the effects of his absolute sham of a performance, but Albus left Defense Against the Dark Arts in a dreadful mood.

He tried to hail Eftan as he exited, but Eftan didn't notice him. Or maybe he did, and just didn't feel like talking.

Albus wandered up a floor to Muggle Studies, so distracted that he didn't even realize that the staircase which he had been climbing changed as he was traveling up it. He got lost momentarily in confusion and then found his bearings enough to get to class just in time; he sat next to Aidan and Exo.

Exo had been whispering to Aidan, and stopped when Albus approached; he thought he knew what (or whom) they were talking about.

"Hey Albus, how was your first class?" asked Aidan.

Albus huffed. "Terrible," he said. "I lost ten points for Gryffindor because I couldn't do a simple spell right." He turned his wand over in his hand. "I think it's my wand." It still hadn't been responding properly to him since he'd bought his second.

"I don't think it's healthy to blame the inanimate object," said Aidan. "Come on. Chin up! You're just rusty. You'll get back in the swing of things soon."

Albus nodded, but then Professor Rhuavone began to speak,

and he shifted his attention to Muggle Studies.

O

He had been excited for his new classes, but this excitement died down when he realized that his first class of each new elective was just going to be a boring discussion on what the course was about. As if he didn't already know what Muggle Studies was about. Professor Glinrow started Ancient Runes by reading aloud an excerpt from "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" in its original form, which was fairly interesting, but he'd heard all those stories hundreds of times before. After a double period of Charms, in which Albus proved incapable of recalling how to perform some of the easiest charms they'd learned in the previous year, Arithmancy began with Professor Ramanu explaining what Arithmancy was—the study of the magical properties of numbers—and talking about some extremely obscure people who'd done some extremely obscure things. He hoped that these classes would pick up quickly; he was eager to learn some material that didn't involve spellwork.

Transfiguration was next, though, and he knew Professor Desulgon wouldn't hold one bad day against him. Albus admired their Transfiguration teacher very much, and lighting up at the thought, he considered that Professor Desulgon might even be able to help Albus figure out what was wrong with his wands.

He settled in next to Alec, who still hadn't seen any of Albus's appalling spellwork this year. He had a small chat about the problem, greeted Holly warmly when she arrived, and then settled in to listen to what Professor Desulgon had planned for them today.

"All right, everyone!" said Professor Desulgon. "I want you to take a random number from this hat."

He levitated a hat around the room, and every student drew a number.

"Check your number, and then take the matching numbered object from that cabinet," said Professor Desulgon, pointing to a cabinet next to the door. "What I'm going to do today is split you up into work groups for the first project of the term, and I'm going to partner you up based on the results. Get to it!"

Albus didn't like the look of this. When he took his #14 object from the cabinet, a small slab of stone, his worst fears were confirmed. The rock had a necklace around it that said _#14—Turn me into a working pocket watch!_

This was something that they had learned towards the end of last year. It was going to take a while to get the job done, but at least he had a good amount of time to do it. Maybe he _was_ just rusty.

As he learned in the next forty-five minutes, if he was actually only rusty, then he was coated in at least ten feet of that rust. He was trying so hard his face was turning red and he almost snapped his wand by bashing it against the rock in anger. At the end of the class, after switching wands several times and nearly shouting the words, he had a watch-shaped rock that ticked. He glumly placed it on their teacher's desk with his name on it.

"All right!" announced Professor Desulgon as his timer went off, looking up from his crossword puzzle for the first time since the class began. "So that you can be sure that my decisions are fair, I haven't been looking at your work at all, and I won't look at any of the names until the pairs have been made. I'm now going to pair the students who performed best on this assignment with the students who performed at a slightly lower level. You'll stick with your partner for the next two months while we learn some far more difficult Transfiguration. This way, the students who don't need as much assistance can help assist their peers who may need some improvements."

Albus blanched.

Professor Desulgon switched around the objects, putting them in pairs. There was apparently more than one watch assignment, as Albus's pitiful rock was paired with what appeared to be a perfect pocket watch. His eye twitched as he realized that he should have had a result that was just as exceptional.

"Best in the class was… our newcomer, Lucas Lotor!" said Professor Desulgon, holding up the watch that Albus was eyeing enviously and reading the tag. "Breathtaking watch. I might wear this if you'll let me keep it!"

"Of course," said Lucas meekly, shrinking in his seat.

"You'll be paired with—"

Professor Desulgon had picked up Albus's product, and he stared at the nametag blankly for a moment, checking to make sure it was really attached to the disgrace that was his rock-watch.

"Well. You'll be paired with Albus Potter," said Professor Desulgon, an eye twitching.

He slammed the rock back down on the table rather roughly, and Albus flinched.

"Hey, wait a minute!" shouted Wendy. "Why do the two _geniuses_ get to work together?"

"Albus didn't make _that!_" growled Scott.

Professor Desulgon raised his voice. "Rose Weasley, you're with Riley Andersen," he said loudly, reading the other tags. "Alec McKinnon, you're with Wendy Harowa; Holly Glissendale, you're with Scott Waters…"

He seemed distracted, though, and finished looking bitter. Albus gulped.

As he expected, when the class was let out, Professor Desulgon walked by him and placed a hand on his shoulder, indicating that he should stay. The rest of the class filed out, and Albus shook with anxiety about what Professor Desulgon would say. Was he really going to be disappointed? He looked to be in a much darker mood than normal.

When there was no one else in the classroom, Professor Desulgon was still standing in the front of the room with his back to Albus while Albus remained in his desk. He heaved a great sigh, and spoke, still turned away.

"Albus."

His voice was soft and dangerous. Albus twitched.

"Yes… sir?"

"Albus… did you purposefully do a poor job so that I'd put you with one of your smarter friends?"

Albus recoiled. He hadn't been expecting _that_ response.

"W-What? No! I would never do that!"

"Albus, I know you," said Professor Desulgon, finally turning around. "You are not a type of student to randomly receive the worst grade in the class. There's something else going on, and I really hope it's not what I think it is. I've seen you sitting with Lucas at meals and it seems you two are evidently already friends. Now, I've told the class that the partners would remain for the next two months, and I'm going to keep my word. So since you are paired with the extraordinarily talented Lucas Lotor… I am going to expect no less than _absolute perfection_ on _whatever assignment you are given,_ and believe me, if you fall short on any assignment, _you—_yes, _you—_will receive detention, point deductions from Gryffindor, extra homework, and whatever other ways I can use to persuade you."

Albus's breath caught, and he couldn't even issue a response to this.

"This does not happen," said Professor Desulgon, narrowing his eyes. "I've never seen a student drop so fast in performance, even returning after months of break. Thus it was either purposeful stacking of the odds or it was pure laziness. Either way, you have broken my trust. Get your act together _now,_ Albus. I'm not going to tolerate any further tomfoolery, _especially_ when it's at the expense of fellow students who could have benefited greatly from being paired with either you or Lucas. You have been warned. You may go."

"_Professor!_" cried Albus in desperation. "I'm having a serious problem! I don't know what it is—I can't fix it—my wands just aren't—nothing is working! Ever since I got my second wand, the two just haven't been acting right!"

"Albus," said Professor Desulgon, folding his arms, "if that was the case, then shouldn't everyone be having the same problem? I see no reason why purchasing a second wand should take power out of the first one. Please go to dinner now. I will see you tomorrow."

Albus skulked out of the room miserably.

It was like some sort of horrible dream, where no one was acting as they should. He wasn't performing his spells right. His teachers all thought he was a no-good do-nothing scoundrel—even one of his favorite teachers considered him a cheat. His friends were mad at him for losing points for Gryffindor for something that wasn't his fault. He hoped his friends wouldn't hate him for what had happened in Transfiguration, too, as he slammed his bag on the Gryffindor table and began eating joylessly.

Exo noticed quickly that Albus wasn't in the best mood.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "Everyone has off days. It'll be all right."

Albus grunted something incoherent.

"We're going to Diwand Spells next!" said Exo, trying to brighten his spirits. "You've been saying that you couldn't wait to learn how to use two wands, doesn't this make you excited?"

"What's the use if I can't even use _one_ wand properly?" spat Albus, slamming his fork back down on his plate. He wasn't hungry anymore, yet he'd barely eaten anything.

Lucas then joined them, sitting between Albus and Exo again, and Albus tried to maintain an air of dignity, finishing his dinner. It was hard to stay cool, knowing that this kid had seen him at his worst, but he had to believe that he'd get better again before long.

"Hey, looks like we'll be working together for a while," said Lucas gently, choosing precisely the worst thing he could have said at that moment.

Albus slammed his silverware back on the table again and gathered up his stuff, marching out of the Hall, leaving Exo looking pained and Lucas looking bewildered.

He'd never been this close to tears before. He wouldn't cry… _he wouldn't cry…_

He entered an empty classroom; most of them were empty, as it was dinner. He marched to the front of the room, promptly slid himself under the teacher's desk, and rocked back and forth, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to prevent the tears from getting out.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him. Spells had always come so easily. He'd been doing them almost without thinking, like there was some sort of great instinct inside him that allowed him to understand magic with little theory. Now, that had gone, and he was left feeling like a helpless first year who'd never learned any magic before.

There was no fallback for him. There was nothing to help him return to his former glory. He had tried his very hardest in Transfiguration and had ended up with the worst result in the class. What could he possibly do about this?

"Something the matter?"

Albus leapt out of his crouch and smacked his skull on the underside of the desk. He rubbed his head, and as the stars cleared from his vision, he saw that Moaning Myrtle's head had phased through the floor. She looked almost as miserable as he was.

"Yes," he said, feeling it was pointless to lie; his cheeks were soaked.

"What is it?"

"I'm… I don't know why, but… I just can't _do anything_ anymore. No spells I'm using are working for me. I think it's my wands, but… no one believes me."

He didn't know why he was spilling his heart out to the miserable little ghost who haunted a girl's toilet, but it made him feel slightly happier that someone was listening.

"And does that make you a bad person?" said Myrtle, clasping her hands behind her back and twisting her hips around in the air a bit.

"No," admitted Albus. "But all my teachers are expecting so much more of me, and they're taking off points, and threatening to give me detention, and… I don't know what to do."

"You're always welcome in my lavatory if you'd like to talk," she suggested.

Albus cringed. "In a girl's lavatory?"

"No one _ever_ comes in there, it's so very lonely," she pouted. "And you remind me so much of Harry…"

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!" shouted Albus.

Myrtle staggered back in the air and grimaced at him.

"Everyone knows me as Harry Potter's son!" he wailed, fresh tears welling up. "Everyone thinks that I'm supposed to turn out to be as great as he was, do everything that he did, and the only thing that was keeping me sane in my first two years was that I _could!_ I was doing so well in my classes, I was living up to my famous name, and now—now I can't do anything and there's even more expectations because of how well I did in my first two years and I _can't handle it!_"

"I don't know what to tell you," said Myrtle. "But let me tell you why _I_ was upset—I was sitting in my bathroom… and I remembered I was _DEAD!_"

Albus started as Moaning Myrtle shrieked the last word. He stared up at her and blinked rapidly a few times before responding.

"Oh. —Oh. I—er, I guess that's… that's worse."

Moaning Myrtle puffed up in anger at this remark—he didn't know why, hadn't she said it to comfort him? She turned and made a haughty beeline towards the wall, phasing through it and disappearing.

Albus had to smile. Myrtle really had helped him out there; he wasn't as upset anymore. Because even if he did suck at spell-casting all of a sudden… at least he wasn't _dead_.

O

He entered the classroom for Diwand Spells, which was on the first floor. Every Gryffindor turned apprehensively to look at him; ignoring them, he sat next to Exo.

Alec and Aidan followed shortly after, and sat on either side of Albus and Exo, which thankfully caused Lucas Lotor, who walked in after that, to have to sit elsewhere. Sylvester and Eftan walked in, chatting, and took a seat on the other side of the room. Albus hoped they weren't talking about him.

There was no Professor Dixon in the class, even when two minutes had passed since the class was supposed to have started.

"D'you think he finally died?" asked Alec, looking out into the hall. Exo elbowed him in the side, laughing.

But then, Professor Dixon walked in, and Albus finally got to see him up close.

He was so old that Albus was feeling conflicted. On one hand, the age of this man suggested to an optimistic mind that Albus and his friends might still have more than a hundred years left in their lives. On the other hand, they did not look forward to a year of looking at this decrepit old man (if he lasted the year).

Without even taking more than two steps into the classroom, Professor Dixon wheezed, "Follow me," and hobbled out, swinging his face around fast enough that his droopy cheeks and chin flopped away from the rest of his face for a moment. Albus quickly counted the number of strands of wispy hair still left on that head—twenty-two total. He had enough time to count before the old wizard even left the room. One by one, the students got up nervously to follow him.

Now they knew why the class was on the first floor. Stairs would have been a nightmare. It took them a full three minutes to walk the one hallway to the outside lawn, and then they left the grounds completely in another five. They shuffled awkwardly along or took one step every three or four seconds, looking at each other and holding in laughs.

Finally, something happened, and it was so unexpected that most of the class almost missed it.

Dixon whipped out his wand, and then suddenly, whipped out a second one (this was, after all, a Diwand Spells class) and shouted, "_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus!_"

A bolt of lightning—not just the jet from a spell, a heated, violently bright burst of electricity, crackling with intense thunder—erupted from the tip of his right-hand wand, and immediately he shouted "_Expulterris!_" and his second wand poured light into the jet from his first spell.

A distortion in their field of vision was followed by a sound like thunder and shattering glass, and the ground along the path of the lightning suddenly burst apart, cracking and exploding, until the bolt vanished a second later. The ground there looked like there had been one of the worst (but most isolated) earthquakes in history.

Professor Dixon turned slowly to face them. "A Shatterbolt," he said, taking deep, heaving breaths in between some of his words. "One of… the strictly… diwand spells." He looked at all of their astonished faces, one by one, and then turned back to the castle. "We will… return… inside now." At the same infuriatingly slow pace as the first time, he scooted along the ground to go back inside. But the eight minute trip was not as dull this time, because everyone was poring over the incredible display they had just seen.

But again, the rest of their first class was as infuriatingly slow-paced as Professor Dixon himself. They simply described what Diwand spells were (spells that required two wands) and the differences between Diwand spells and simply using two wands to cast normal spells. He then handed out a course syllabus detailing what they would be covering throughout all seven years. During their third year, they would be studying Simple Diwand Spells, Simple Iterations, and Simple Channeling, whatever that meant. In their fourth year, they would be getting into the Complex Diwand Spells, Complex Iterations, and Complex Channeling. Their fifth year introduced Metronoming, Telescoping, and Concurrence, which would continue into their sixth year while they continued to learn Complex Diwand Spells, and then in their seventh year they would begin learning about Composite Diwandology, the study of everything having to do with two wands. Professor Dixon promised them that they'd be gradually learning what all of this meant, and that they would in fact be tested on terminology soon. He ended class by telling them (extremely slowly) that their first Rotation double period would be this class, Diwand Spells, and that each A.R.M. class would rotate through once every four weeks, as Albus had suspected.

"He _needs_ a two hour period just to get through one hour of material," muttered Alec. "That was beyond grueling."

"We'll be able to deal with it," said Aidan. "At least we know he'll never go through the material too fast for us."

"True."

They parted to head to their own common rooms; it was already very late. Albus was in a slightly better mood, but still, somehow "You're not dead" was not enough of a consolation to ease him off to a gentle sleep.

O

Potions the next morning was pleasant, as it didn't require any spellwork. In fact, the vast majority of his classes did not require wands—so far, it looked like only Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and the A.R.M. program needed them. Of course, just those four would be enough to make his life hell if he couldn't pull it together, and fast.

He sat down in History of Magic next to Holly, who looked concerned about something.

"Hi," he said. "What's up?"

Holly glanced back up at him with the most serious expression he'd ever seen on her face.

"Albus… why'd you mess up so badly in Transfiguration?"

Albus deflated. "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't?" asked Holly, looking surprised.

"No!" repeated Albus, louder. "You didn't think I messed up on purpose too, did you? I'd never do that. I was trying my hardest; I just can't do magic this year for some reason. It's happened in all three of my classes so far!"

Holly pierced him with her gaze, apparently trying to determine whether he was telling the truth. Although Professor Binns began giving his lecture, their conversation continued; no one in the class was really listening, anyway.

"Desulgon didn't believe me," said Albus. "I tried to explain, but he told me that if I didn't do absolutely perfect on every assignment, he was going to start giving me detentions and taking points away from Gryffindor."

Holly continued to stare him down.

"I believe you," she said. "Don't worry, Albus, I'll help you. I know you're not stupid, I know you'll be back in form soon."

"You'll help me get better again?" said Albus, his eyes slightly watering.

Holly nodded. "You're my friend, Albus. I can't sit back and let you struggle. I'm going to help you get back to perfection if that's what Professor Desulgon expects."

She leaned her head against his shoulder; Albus had never been warmer in his life, but he still shivered at the contact before breaking into a wide smile that wouldn't go away.

"_Get your Patronus!_" mouthed Alec at Albus. "_Kiss her!_"

O

Albus attended his first Care of Magical Creatures class with Uncle Charlie after History of Magic. Charlie didn't waste time like the other professors—he got right into it, assuming correctly that nobody needed an explanation of what a class called "Care of Magical Creatures" was about. He showed them some adorable little creatures called Aptads, which were born birds if their egg was hatched in a tree, frogs if they hatched in a swampy area, moles if they hatched on the ground, and fish if they hatched underwater. He taught them how to distinguish Aptads from the actual animals they were imitating, and showed them how to hatch Aptad eggs, all in one day.

Next was a Defense Against the Dark Arts double period. They talked exclusively about theory in regards to Dark creatures, and so no wands were used; Albus was secretly relieved, but also itching to try using magic again to get rid of his problem. In addition, the theoretical classes were becoming almost as unbearable as his struggles in the practical classes, because Lucas was proving himself to be more of a know-it-all than Rose and Aidan combined.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, he had Divination, also with the Slytherins. There were tables of three set up all around the room, and Albus took a seat with Exo. They were joined almost immediately (much to Albus's chagrin) by Lucas.

"Divination at Salem is an elective, too," said Lucas.

_How absolutely fascinating,_ thought Albus. _Why don't you tell us some more entirely useless information?_

It was probably his poor performances, but he remained in the worst of moods throughout almost the entire day. Most of his animosity towards life at this point was now directed at Lucas. Care of Magical Creatures was his only solace; Charlie would know he wasn't fooling around in his classes. And Lucas didn't seem to know as much about European magical animals, which gave the rest of them a bit of an advantage.

"Good evening, students."

They turned to the ladder. Professor Allira was shuffling herself up the ladder extremely slowly. Her stance was so awkward that Albus suspected for a minute that she'd broken her leg. She dragged herself onto the floor, huffing and puffing, and then lifted herself up from the floor, all the while keeping her right leg off of the floor. When she stood up, it was on her left foot only, and she wobbled slightly before hopping to her chair in the center of the room and sitting down, placing her right foot on her desk.

"Did you hurt yourself, Professor?" asked Palila.

"No, my dear," said Professor Allira. "I was merely reading the signs this morning when I realized that good fortune would come to me, should I take up the drive to never allow my right foot to touch the floor today."

The silence that followed was merely the self-restraint of laughter.

"But you're wearing shoes," said Abby. "Your feet won't touch the ground anyway until they're off."

Professor Allira stared at her foot for a moment before taking it off of her desk and placing it back on the ground.

"Very good," she said. "Shall we begin?"

Again, the class was spent discussing exactly what the class was about. Towards the end, though, Professor Allira spiced up the hour a bit by giving them each a reading from a special deck of cards called a Tetronfi set, consisting of ninety-one cards. Each of them were to be dealt four cards, and then those cards would be reshuffled into the deck after Professor Allira had finished describing what was in store for their near future.

Professor Allira slid four upside-down cards off the top for Exo first, as he, Albus, and Lucas were in the front.

"You must turn them over in the order you deem correct," said Professor Allira. "Turn the first card."

Exo turned over the first card. It pictured two birds standing next to each other, staring in opposite directions.

"_The Lookouts,_" whispered Professor Allira dramatically. "I see."

Exo next turned over a picture of an eye; it was closed, but the eyelid was slightly see-through.

"_The Translucence,_" she said. "I see."

The next card that Exo turned over depicted the silhouette of a strong-looking man. He was standing on flames.

"_The Return,_" she gasped. "I see."

Finally, Exo turned over the last card; Professor Allira screamed and leapt backwards about ten feet, stumbling to catch her balance.

Everyone in the class either stood up or walked over to see what was pictured on Exo's card.

"_In Extremis,_" she declared. "I see!"

The final card pictured a mangled and bloody body hovering in the air, glowing with a red-orange light.

"I see!" she repeated tremulously. "My dear, you may just have the most ominous reading that ever I have conferred. _The Lookouts_ and _The Translucence!_ You must keep your friends close, for you do not in fact perceive all that which you perceive to perceive, and multiple perceptions determine your peripherals. You must keep a constant watch, as your eyes are untrained to see exactly that which is the purpose of the eye."

"Ex—Excuse me?" said Exo, voicing the confusion that was likely shared with the entire class.

"_The Return._ A return to something, or from something. It could mean that a figure whom you thought had disappeared will return; however, it could also indicate your return from certain death. And _In Extremis! In Extremis!_ The rarest draw of all!"

"Shouldn't… Shouldn't they all have the same likelihood of being picked?" asked Rose skeptically.

Rose was ignored, but Albus saw Professor Allira's eye twitch. "_In Extremis._ The term used to describe the profound capabilities of the ordinary man under extraordinary circumstances. _In Extremis_, in wizarding terminology, refers to the burst of power experienced by a wizard who understands that he is close to death and is willing to do anything to battle that fact. When you are closest to death, you are most capable of fighting for your life. You will be brought to the brink of your death, Exorian Wilcox, yet you will escape with your life with the help of your allies, as predicted by the Tetronfi!"

Exo raised an eyebrow; Albus knew what he was thinking.

"Excuse me… Professor Allira?" asked Rose. "Are you sure that your magnificent Tetronfi didn't just predict the past?"

That was what Albus and Exo had been thinking. This sounded like a perfect prediction of the Lunar Eclipse Festival—if she had been predicting it _before_ it had happened.

"Yes, well…" said Professor Allira, looking abashed. "Yes, that can sometimes happen… sometimes, the Tetronfi will refer to recent events, rather than future events, if the past is more meaningful than the f—"

"That's not _predicting!_" bellowed Riley from the back. "Hell, I can predict the past all day!"

Professor Allira hushed the class's laughter as she reshuffled the deck, and she turned to Albus, looking angry. She slammed four cards on his desk.

"Pick one up!" she barked.

Albus cautiously reached for the farthest card and turned it over. It depicted two women who were directing wands at each others' faces.

"_The Battle,_" she muttered. "I see."

Albus flipped over another card. It showed a woman gazing up into the stars.

"_Knowledge,_" she said, looking slightly impressed. "I see."

The third card depicted a strange looking creature. It looked like an elephant, with the same body shape, head shape, and tusks, but no trunk. On its head rested a stone wall.

"_The Warkabull,_" she said. "I see."

Albus's last card was the same as Exo's first—the two birds looking in opposite directions.

"_The Lookouts,_" she said. "I see. Yes, I see. Overall, I see this: you will be involved in an epic clash. Like a castle of a chessboard, you are the cornerstone and an important player, and to lose you would be catastrophic; as such, you will be constantly threatened, for the enemy knows your value."

Albus gulped.

"But you will fight back using knowledge. Knowledge that must be gained by overcoming the most distressful of barriers: the Warkabull. Does anyone know of the Warkabull?"

Rose's hand shot up into the air, as did Lucas's. Professor Allira called on Rose; Albus was silently relieved.

"The Warkabull is an extinct magical creature resembling an elephant with a stone wall on its head," she rattled off. "The wall is actually a part of the Warkabull's head. They slept in rows, forming a barrier around their nests or territory, and anyone who manages to get through the border makes the Warkabull furious. That's why it became symbolic of an almost impossible obstacle to overcome. A rough outline of the Warkabull even symbolizes 'wall' in runes. It was hunted into extinction in the sixteenth century because its magical wall-like growth was prized as building material because it deflects all magical attempts of penetration and was thus used in the construction of castles and homes of the wealthy and—"

"Yes, yes, that's correct, good," said Professor Allira, finally dismissing her. "Five points to Gryffindor and whatnot. As I was saying, Albus, you must overcome an incredible barrier, which you can only do with the help of those to whom you are closest. Do not forget it."

She leaned over to Lucas, shuffling the cards again.

Albus reeled from the information she'd just given him. This mental block in performing magic—was this his "incredible barrier?" Why did she describe it as an "almost impossible obstacle?"

Lucas's four cards were _Knowledge, The Lender, The Meditation, _and_ The Commander, _which Professor Allira claimed to indicate that Lucas was destined to become a great teacher and leader. Albus only really paid attention to a few more after that—Rose was destined to conquer, and yet simultaneously befriend, all rivals; Sylvester was supposedly going to walk in the footsteps of a famous relative; Eftan would follow his greatest friends to any lengths, even death; Scorpius Malfoy was destined to be stubborn and unmoving and only learn otherwise when it became crucial, which he found rather insulting, if his face was any indication. Class was dismissed on that note.

Albus had been dreading the end of this class; it brought on another day of Transfiguration. But as he struggled through the simplest tasks, with Lucas giving him the most basic and useless pointers as if he'd never tried magic before, he saw Professor Desulgon looking at him curiously with something like regret. Albus certainly hoped this was the case—maybe Professor Desulgon was realizing that the misfiring spells weren't Albus's fault, and maybe he was feeling remorseful about the way he'd treated Albus.

O

Albus's first Wandless Magic class began after dinner that day. Entering the classroom, he saw a desk, on which sat two ordinary drinking glasses, and a chair in front of the desk, on which Professor Skower sat with an unimpressed look on his face as he examined the bunch. His eyes halted on Albus for a moment, as had been occurring with most of the new professors, and then he cleared his throat and began to speak without sitting up or even unfolding his arms.

"Good evening, class. I am Professor Skower. Say all of your names now."

After everyone had said their names, Professor Skower cleared his throat, still sitting in his chair, and delved into, yet again, an explanation of what the class would be about. Apparently the title "Wandless Magic" wasn't descriptive enough. Albus slumped in his chair as he listened. Hopefully he wouldn't fail so terribly in this class, too.

"Wandless Magic is the most complex, unpredictable, and wild magic you could possibly imagine," said Professor Skower. "It's a combination of trying to defeat a dragon with punches and trying to hold water in a sieve. You will not—I repeat, you will not—be able to do more than a few of the most basic spells with more than fifty percent accuracy before you graduate, and I suggest you don't get your hopes up that you will do so. And even if you can do those spells, they are extraordinarily more exhausting than using a wand, and you will likely tire after one successful spell. Other areas of study have been accelerating in their pace, as wands get better and the theory gets better. This is not so with Wandless Magic. There are no wands on which to improve, only the body, which has remained the same since the beginning of this field of study, and the theory is the most simple yet the most intensely difficult of all the disciplines.

"Wandless Magic has many implications in other fields. It is, after all, the magic inside your body which allows you to connect with wands and other magical instruments; thus you will be learning some concepts concurrently in this course and in your Alternative Artifact Magic and Modern Magical Instruments classes. This is beneficial for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that this class shouldn't be restricted to one day a week; it cannot be completely covered in five years. However, I have been hired to teach you as much as possible in these five years, and that is exactly what I am going to do.

"In today's class, we will be covering what is encompassed by the terminology of 'Elementalism,' 'Resonance,' 'Kinesis,' and 'Telekinesis.' One of these terms, I am sure, you have encountered prior to today. Who can define one of them for me?"

The three first hands in the air belonged, as Albus suspected, to Rose, Aidan, and Lucas. He also raised his hand—in fact, most of the class did. Professor Desulgon had done a thorough job ensuring that they knew a fair amount about Kinesis.

Professor Skower called on Mia Moon.

"Kinesis is the body's natural magical energy," said Mia.

"Okay—that's not quite right—can anyone take it further?" He pointed to Lucas. "Lotor, right?"

"Yes, sir. Kinesis is the potency factor of the manifestation of a spell. The Kinesis _level_ is the body's natural magical energy level."

"That's it. Miss Moon, you were thinking of Kinesis _levels._ Kinesis itself is the name given to the potency of the spell. There is a special name for people who devote their time to studying Kinesis; can anybody give me that name, and tell me who is the most famous of these people? Finch-Fletchley?"

"Thonner Gaimond was the most famous Kineticist," said Aidan.

"Yes, Thonner Gaimond was very well-known for his studies into Kinesis. He created Gaimond's Law, stating that Kinesis varies by a factor of four point nine percent with the phase of the moon; strongest at full, weakest at the new moon. It drops by twice as much during the lunar eclipse. But remember that Kinetic _levels_ do not rise or drop, so although your spells are more powerful during the fuller phases of the moon, you will tire out faster with the same number of spells, because more of your energy is lost on each spell. Now, this may seem like a very random question, but I assure you that it is quite related to what I have just said: Why do we use wands to perform magic? Weasley?"

"We use wands," said Rose, "because a wand offers a path through which we can channel our Kinesis with little resistance."

"Yes. By connecting our mind, our very emotions, with a wand, we may channel our energy through the path offered by the wood and the core, and the _resistance_—that is to say, how difficult it is to get the magic out of your body—decreases by a staggering margin. The recent studies into wand maturation—bathing your wand in enchanted water, enchanted flame, or the like—has helped decrease resistance even further, by strengthening the wand. It's easier to do harder spells than it used to be."

Albus huffed. Not in his recent experience, it wasn't…

"Now, does anyone know what Resonance means?"

The only person with a hand up now was Lucas. Rose and Aidan stared him down challengingly as Professor Skower called on him again.

"Resonance," he said, "is the magical shattering point of an object—that is, the amount of Kinesis you need to channel into an object to cause fractures."

"Precisely. For example, take this glass." He finally got out of his chair, picked up one of the drinking glasses from his desk, and held it up, balancing it on the back of his hand as he stood in front of the class. "Now for a demonstration."

He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. Without touching the glass, or making even a slight movement, the glass splintered on his hand. It wasn't an explosion; rather, it was disintegration. Nothing went flying, but millions of pieces as small as grains of sand poured onto the floor. Professor Skower shook his hand off and then lumbered back to his chair.

"You'll learn to do that by the end of the year," he said, "though not as quickly. I just happen to know the Resonance of glass, so I can shatter it at a moment's notice. Even from a distance."

He gestured back to the second glass, which was still sitting on the desk, and suddenly it too had been reduced to smithereens.

"You will not be able to do _that_ by the end of the year, but you will by the end of next," he said. "Are there any questions?"

When nobody voiced a question, he continued. "This does not work for living creatures, I should mention. They are too complex. The most you will do is make it start to bleed a little, but it _will_ be extremely painful for the creature. So if I see any of you trying to find the Resonance point of some poor, innocent animal, you will be leaving this class and probably the school as well. That should now be clear to you. Is it?"

They all nodded yes.

"Can anyone tell me what Telekinesis is? Yes, Glissendale?"

"Telekinesis is the art of sending out your Kinesis through the air to affect objects," said Holly.

"No, not really."

Holly huffed and drew herself up in her chair.

"You just defined Effection. Telekinesis is sending out Kinesis, but only causing objects to _move._ Effection is the art of provoking specific _effects_ in objects; hence the name. Telekinesis is when you only put a force on objects, causing them to move, and nothing else. That's what you'll be learning, along with Resonance, Kinetic Management, and Elemental Influence, in our first term. Can anyone define Elemental Influence?"

Nobody raised their hands, though Rose, Aidan, and Lucas were looking tentative. Albus suspected he knew why no one was answering. Several students had already offered definitions for other terms, but Professor Skower had shot them down rather rudely if it was anything but perfect. Any other teacher, like Professor Longbottom or Professor Desulgon, would probably have awarded points for an answer like Holly's, which was pretty much ninety percent correct. Professor Skower was rather discouraging anyone from speaking up with his attitude.

"No one knows?" asked Professor Skower, his large mouth curling down in a frown. "Elementalism is magic having to do with the elements—that is, the traditional elements of earth, water, wind, and more commonly, fire... though we now include electricity as a more common magical element like fire. People find themselves often allied with an element, and you may find that magic not normally fire-based might have some flame-like elements to it, if you are attuned to the element of fire. There are the three Natural Elements of Land, Sea, and Sky—Earth, Water, and Wind—and the two Power Elements of Fire and Lightning. Or so the legends go, but in this case, they do seem to be correct. In this class, you will also learn to use your naked magic to affect the elements. And that is what we will be doing during our first double period a week from Friday.

"Right now, I could just lecture you about the other definitions you need to know, but you can read those in your textbook. In fact, everything we would be doing today could be simply read in the textbook, so I'll just let you go right now and you can read Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 in your text in preparation for next week. See you then."

Leaving the class slightly stunned, he got up and walked towards the door.

Exo turned to Albus. "He… It hasn't even been ten minutes."

"Oh—you will be responsible for all definitions in the chapter, and there will be a quiz next week on all of them," said Professor Skower right before he exited.

"Are you kidding?" asked Lucas, flipping through the text, which he had open on his desk. "There are, like, twenty definitions per chapter."

"I don't really like Professor Skower right now," said Alec. "Can I take A.R.M. without this class?"

"I believe it's a package deal," said Aidan, shaking his head as he packed up his stuff. "Well, I guess I'll go read now. And then read later. And then read forever."

"We have so much homework already," moaned Alec, stomping flat-footed towards the door. "Why can't school be school minus the work?"

"You don't _have_ to work while you're at school," said Aidan. "You just wouldn't stay for very long if you did no work."

Albus glanced over to where Eftan was sitting, but he'd already left. They still hadn't spoken since last year… he vowed to change that.

O

Neither Transfiguration nor Defense Against the Dark Arts met on Wednesdays, and Charms had no magical component to the class, so Albus got a break from using magic. As a result, he left all of his classes feeling confident—he knew the answers to all of the questions that were asked of the class, and had suitably impressed his new Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy teachers.

Their Alternative Artifact Magic professor, Flower Pratley, seemed to be very flighty and disconnected. She asked them to read the first chapter of their text in class, and then spent most of the remaining time asking questions about the reading while she looked up into the ceiling as if she was constantly daydreaming. All the same, it was refreshing to have another female teacher—all of their professors, apart from Madam Duopold in one term of Flying, had been male so far. This term, at least, they had Arithmancy with Janet Ramanu, Divination with Professor Allira, and Ancient Runes with Professor Glinrow, as well as Flower Pratley for Alternative Artifact Magic and Laney Norton for Modern Magical Instruments.

She finished up by explaining that this semester would be spent studying Copacetials, which were viable substitutes for wands that could be found in nature. She said that they would also be studying Resonance, due to its implications into Transferral, the art of giving temporary magical qualities to an object so that it could be used as a wand. Then she told them that they had no homework, and bid them all a good night.

Modern Magical Instruments, held the next day, could not have been farther from this. Professor Norton was very harsh and strict; all business from the first seconds of the class, it was clear that she had high expectations.

"Our single period classes will be spent discussing the history of wandlore," she said. "Our first term will cover all of the history, before the common era, of wands and wand-like creations. In our second term, we will turn to the common era and cover everything up to modern times. In our double periods, throughout this year, we will be studying emotional magic, and how this affects wands and wandlore. Because of the connections, I will be reinforcing some of the things you will learn in Wandless Magic."

The rest of the class after that was essentially a History of Magic class, except far more interesting and interactive. Professor Norton instantly established a connection with everyone in the class, despite her almost intimidating focus on making sure they learned all of the material. She introduced a concept that kept the class as dynamic as possible—every time someone answered a question correctly, they would get a token, and ten tokens could be traded in for an extra percentage point on the test.

Their Modern Magical Instruments class was held in a previously unused classroom in the dungeon, and as they left, they passed the Entrance Hall and the door leading to the grounds, taking a look at the House point hourglasses on the way to their rooms.

Hufflepuff appeared to be tied with Slytherin, and Gryffindor was slightly ahead of the two, but…

"What the heck happened with Ravenclaw?" asked Exo.

The Ravenclaw hourglass was already more than twice as high as any of the others.

"Somebody from Ravenclaw must have cured dragon pox or something," said Lucas. "That is a ton of points already."

"Albus, you must be so proud!" raved Professor Plinky as he passed, pointing to the hourglass. "Phenomenal. Truly, simply phenomenal!"

Albus looked after him, confused. Why would he be proud about…

Lily was in Ravenclaw.

"Albus, your sister has deeply impressed me," said Professor Westerling, placing a hand on Albus's shoulder as he also passed by. "I've never seen such raw talent. It's no wonder she was sorted into Ravenclaw! She's got great things ahead of her."

Albus would have been happy if he wasn't extra annoyed about the fact that now, Lily was probably better at magic than he was, if the teachers and the hourglass weren't lying. Was he about to be overshadowed by his little sister?

He spent the entire night on Transfiguration. There would be a double period with Professor Desulgon's class tomorrow, and he didn't want to disappoint Professor Desulgon or look bad in front of Lucas. The task should have been simple: he was transfiguring a blank strip of parchment into an authentic-looking children's book. It might have been difficult for someone who wasn't inclined to Transfiguration, but it _should_ have been straightforward for Albus. Yet he found himself struggling again. Any time he tried to add a detail, give the characters in his story eyes, the images would become blotched and blurred. Lucas kept feebly trying to give instruction, but he was no teacher, and Albus already knew all of the theory anyway. It was putting the theory into practice that was getting him now.

His mind drifted back to his first days with his wand, where he was certain that nothing in his Hogwarts career would prove to be an obstacle. Luna had told him that his wand was powerful enough that he wouldn't even require as much theory to do his spells.

Was this the problem? Had he never properly learned the theory because he never had to? Now he was in the process of learning more difficult material, and he wasn't accustomed to having to practice so much to get the spells.

But this didn't explain why he couldn't do even the spells at the level of a first year.

Still having made no progress past midnight, he slammed his book shut furiously and headed off to bed, hoping that Professor Desulgon wouldn't send him down to the first year classes tomorrow when he found out exactly how little progress "perfect little Albus Potter" had made.

O

Albus walked into Transfiguration nervously the next day, and sat by Lucas.

"Yo, did you practice before breakfast today?" asked Lucas.

"Yes," muttered Albus in strong irritation. "And after breakfast. And between classes. And between classes again. And before lunch. And after lunch."

"Did you… get anywhere?" prodded Lucas tentatively.

"Not even close," spat Albus, burying his head in his hands.

This was his last chance. Today, they would be graded on their performance. Already, in the first week of classes, he was going to be evaluated, and he knew already what the result was going to be.

Pulling himself together, he vowed that he wouldn't go down easily. He had two hours to get his act together and surprise himself, make sure that this parchment that Professor Desulgon had just handed him would bend to his will like everything had done throughout his first two years of school. He readied his wand and began.

But an hour and a half later, he still had a rough, awkwardly-bound book that looked like it originated from somewhere around the fourth century. He took both his wands in his hands and tried doing it using two in the same hand, but when he tried this, the book accidentally caught fire. Lucas extinguished it quickly and examined his work warily—they were graded on a group performance.

But that wouldn't be the only problem if he didn't finish this job. Detentions. Points from Gryffindor. _Extra_ work, in addition to all the desperate practice he was putting in, trying to keep up with just the current work. And yet, no motivation proved able to spur him into action. His finished product was as pitiful as those that came before it. He buried his head in his arms at his desk as Professor Desulgon started to walk around to examine the products.

Professor Desulgon swung around the room, and he reached Albus and Lucas in the back almost last.

"Lucas… great. Excellent. I'd give this to my kids if I had kids."

Albus heard feet shuffle to the front of his desk, but he didn't lift his head off of his desk. He heard paper rustling, momentary silence, and then a soft placement of the book back on his desk.

"Albus… very good."

Albus's eyes shot open and he lifted his head from the dark refuge of his arms. Sitting in front of him was a children's book that looked like the end product he had _wanted_ it to be, but even better. What had happened? Was his magic just delayed or something?

Then he glanced over to Lucas, who smiled slightly and winked in his direction.

_Lucas_ had changed his book to what Professor Desulgon had been expecting?

And more importantly—because Albus had not heard him say anything since Professor Desulgon called time—he had done it _nonverbally, and in the span of three minutes?_

Anger boiled up in him like lava in an active volcano. He held it in until they were dismissed and out of the room, and then erupted.

"_What the hell did you do that for?_" he burst.

Lucas retreated down the stairs like a frightened animal. "What—I'm sorry, but it's my grade on the line, too! If you're not going to pull your weight, I'm not going to suffer the consequences, but just be sure I'll tell Professor Desulgon next time exactly how little you've been doing. This is the only time I'll do that—"

"_I don't need your help!_" bawled Albus, not caring that people were staring. "You've just ruined my chances of getting help! Not only does Professor Desulgon think that I don't have a problem—and now he'll probably believe me even _less_ when I say that I still can't do any magic right—but now he probably really _does_ think that I bombed that first thing on purpose just to be paired with you!"

"What's the matter with you?" growled Lucas, finally asserting himself back. "If you didn't want my help, you could have just said it!"

"I thought I made it pretty obvious without saying it anyway!" argued Albus.

"You have serious problems!" barked Lucas. "Just because you're _jealous—_"

"SHUT UP!" said Albus, and before he knew it, a small explosion had occurred under Lucas's feet, and he was blasted into the air, clearing the banister and toppling to the floor below.

He threw a hand to his mouth—he hadn't meant it—why could he do magic _now_ and not when he needed to? —he ran to the stairs and looked over the side as gasps echoed throughout the hall from anyone who had been watching.

Lucas was clutching his arm in pain; tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he wasn't sobbing. He was just grimacing and glaring up at Albus with absolute loathing.

"What the HELL was that for, Albus?" roared Candice, charging down the stairs to see if Lucas was okay.

Albus tried to vocalize to Lucas that he hadn't meant to do it; nothing came out of his throat. Truthfully, he really _hadn't_ meant it… but he also wasn't exactly sorry.

"Albus," said Professor Desulgon, appearing so suddenly that Albus almost toppled over the banister himself. "Detention in my office tonight."

Albus's heart sank. His first detention.

…But it had kind of been worth it, hadn't it? Lucas was being a total jerk.

"Hospital wing, come on," said Professor Desulgon, helping Lucas up. "Madam Birchbaum will fix you right up, don't worry…"

"Albus, you total git!" shrieked Candice, storming back up the stairs and feebly attempting to punch him. "His arm's broken, you broke his arm!"

"I didn't mean to!" retaliated Albus, grabbing her fists to stop her from breaking one of _his_ bones.

"You're so stupid and shallow!" she screeched, writhing against his grip. "You're not the only guy who's allowed to be smart! Lucas can be smart, too! You're just mad at the fact that he's stealing your spotlight!"

"_What?_" yelled Albus. "I am _not!_ What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just because he's smarter than you—and better-looking—and an Animagus—"

Albus froze.

"He's _what?_"


	5. Perfect Little Lucas Lotor

_**Chapter 5. My only author's note is that someone asked whether underage wizards are allowed to do magic outside of the home, now that the global revelation has happened, since James and Albus are shown using magic. The answer is no. JK mentioned that the Ministry could only track Harry when he used magic outside of a magical home. When a kid is in a magical house, they can't tell what magic is from the kids and what's from the adults, so they don't bother attempting to oversee that. Instead they leave it to the adults to dispense punishment for magic outside of school. Harry allows James and Albus to practice the Patronus and asks them not to tell Uncle Percy he's been letting them use magic.**_

_**See you at the bottom of the page!**_

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

PERFECT LITTLE LUCAS LOTOR

O

Now Albus knew what Lucas had done when he'd disappeared near the carriages. He hadn't teleported, and he hadn't turned invisible—he'd turned into a raccoon. Lucas was the youngest known Animagus ever to live.

Professor Desulgon's detention had only been lines. The worst part of it wasn't the assigned punishment, though. The worst part of the detention had been the fact that Professor Desulgon wouldn't look him in the eye the entire time, or even give a glance in his general direction. When three hours had passed, Professor Desulgon wordlessly Summoned the parchment and told Albus he could leave, all without picking up his head from his grading. It was midnight, thanks to the fact that there was a double period of his Diwand Spells class before he could serve the detention. That class had been as deathly dull as the first, with Professor Dixon and his speech velocity that could have put Binns to sleep. Hogwarts, so far, was nowhere near as enjoyable as it was last year. Albus found himself almost wishing to be back home.

Meanwhile, Lucas was getting so much attention it was a wonder he wasn't on the front page of the Prophet. Or, at least, that's what Albus had been thinking, up until the point where Lucas really _did_ appear on the front of the Prophet, in a story about the exchange program at Hogwarts, which did a central focus on Lucas and his extraordinary abilities.

Holly had a very hard time believing that Albus hadn't injured Lucas on purpose.

"Even if it _was_ an accident," she said sternly, "you had to have been angry enough to do it."

Even Aidan and Alec were colder to him than usual. The only friend who wouldn't leave his side was Exo, who was also a little bit annoyed at all the fanfare over perfect little Lucas Lotor.

"I know about getting angry and bursting out with magic," said Exo. "I used to do it all the time. I was kind of an angry child for a while."

The entire weekend, he was left by himself to practice alone in the library, working more intensely than he'd ever worked, trying as hard as possible to restore his magical ability to its former prowess, but getting no further than the previous week.

O

In Defense Against the Dark Arts on the next Monday, Albus failed yet again in his attempts to work out the Spinning Jinx, which causes your enemy to turn completely around and shift to the same momentum in the opposite direction. The only other person to perform at as low a level was Riley, who watched Albus carefully throughout the entire class.

When Charms came, Albus was the only one not affected by the Cheering Charms perfected by the rest of the class; ironic, seeing as how he was the most in need of exactly this kind of spell. He packed up his bag feeling sick, and exited the room with a cloud over his head, bumping right into Riley; he had apparently been waiting.

"Hey, Albus," he said, sounding infinitely more concerned than any of Albus's friends to date. "Is something wrong?"

Albus nodded. "Well, I can't do spells worth a damn any more."

"Seems to me your classwork is losing its magic," said Riley, putting his hands in his pockets and strolling down the hall a little bit; Albus followed. "Pun intended. I guess this means you don't really care about your work that much anymore, huh."

Albus was stunned into silence. Taking this lack of objection as an assent, Riley continued. "And hey, I thought you were smart before, but now I _know_ you're a _genius._ You're crazy good at everything, but why try when you can graduate with as little effort as the worst kids in our year? I think you and I could be good friends, Al. You know what's important—not any of this stupid stuff they're making us learn. Who needs Cheering Charms when we can just not be upset by not caring about exams? When are we ever going to need any of this ever again? You and me, we'll coast through at the bottom and do just as well as everyone else, because that's the way the world works, you know."

Albus hated hearing this—he hated every second of it—and he hated the voice in the back of his head admitting that it was, at least, partially true."

"You really only have to give a certain amount of effort—after that, unless you're the best in your field, it really doesn't matter. They teach us about Thonner Gaimond, but who was the, say, third best Kinelologist or whatever they call them? Nobody knows. Despite being the third best _ever,_ he's just about as well known as the third worst. Why should we even give a damn? You know what I'm talking about, right? That's why you've just stopped stressing yourself out and all?"

Albus had been boiling over in anger all week. His rage had already broken Lucas's arm, and now that he was presented with a chance to blow some more of it out, he didn't back down from the opportunity.

"That's _not_ the way the world works, you total git," he snapped. "If Thonner Gaimond had thought the way you think, wands wouldn't be better and we'd know less than half of what we know about wandless magic! I know _you_ can be content sitting in the back of the class and drooling until you're drowning, but I'm better than that and I could never forgive myself if I got as stupid as you!"

Riley's face clouded over at the first sentence, and by the end of it, he'd turned red and was snorting like a bull. He took out his wand and aimed it at Albus.

"_Cadesempra!_" yelled Riley as Albus whipped out his own wand.

"_Effracturo!_"

Albus's spell had no result even close to its intended effect, and he flew backwards head over heels until his shoulder struck the stairs and he slammed to a stop.

"What's the matter, Allie?" jeered Riley loud enough for everyone around to hear. "All that studying really paying off, huh? Loser."

The words bit like a Stinging Hex. It was true; Riley had never said anything more correct. Albus was a loser, through and through.

He staggered back to pick up his fallen wand and books, and then he tried to ignore the laughter around him as he trudged up to Arithmancy.

O

No one sat next to him in Arithmancy. No one sat next to him in Transfiguration, either, except Lucas, who was required to do so. He wasn't happy about it, though, seeing as how Albus had just broken his arm, and he would not give any of his advice anymore. This, of course, was an improvement, and Albus actually made some slight progress without Lucas standing over his shoulder pointing out every little thing he thought was being done wrong. However, the progress that he did make was _very_ slight, and almost unnoticeable.

And then, much to Albus's dismay, Professor Desulgon walked over once the class was over and placed a hand on his shoulder again, which he knew was an indication to stay after class again. Lucas noticed and, being the genius that he was, figured out very quickly that Albus was in trouble again, and he packed up his stuff with a smug little smirk on his face that Albus just wanted to burn off.

When everyone had gone, Albus found himself making eye contact with Professor Desulgon, which at least didn't mean that he was _furious._ Professor Desulgon didn't grace you with his vision when he was furious.

"Albus, what is going on?"

Albus sighed. Professor Desulgon had to have heard about the fight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Riley was saying some really… he was making me so…"

"Riley?" said Professor Desulgon. "I'm talking about _you._"

"What?"

"But, wait. Did you get into a fight with Riley?"

Albus nodded—great, now Professor Desulgon was bound to turn on him again.

"He seemed fine, though. What happened?"

"I… got thrown onto the stairs," grumbled Albus.

Professor Desulgon gawked. "You _lost_ a hallway duel to Riley?" He shook his head. "That's it. I was suspecting something funny before that, but that does it. You've got a problem. There's something else going on here."

"_That's what I've been trying to tell you!_" roared Albus.

Professor Desulgon scratched the back of his neck in an embarrassed grimace. "Yeah… well… I think you should be proud, that I thought you were so smart that I refused to believe you could give a poor performance."

"I wish you could have _trusted_ me, too," shot Albus, knowing he was being rude to the only teacher who was apparently on his side, but not caring as much at the moment. He was upset and he needed to convey it, lest Professor Desulgon suspect him of ulterior motives again.

"Then I apologize, and ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Desulgon.

Albus stared. "What?"

"For an honest mistake."

Albus glanced back to the floor and immediately felt repentant for his behavior.

"So, there's some strange factor we know nothing about, affecting your ability in the classroom," said Professor Desulgon. "Sound right?"

"I guess so," said Albus.

"And you thought it was your wands?"

"I still do."

"I still don't. It just strikes me as odd that you would be the first person in the _history of the world_ to experience that problem. I think it must be something internal."

"Then what do I do?" asked Albus. He didn't like the thought that something inside of him wasn't working properly.

"I think you should visit Madam Birchbaum, after dinner."

Albus tried to recall his schedule. "I—I have Diwand Spells after dinner, sir."

"This is more important. I'll ask Yohn what he talked about and then catch you up on it if necessary. No offense to him, but I could probably cover his hour-long class in five minutes or so. No, we have to take you to Madam Birchbaum as soon as possible so she can see if anything is the matter—if this is an issue with your internal magic, then we should try to get it straightened out as soon as possible. Come down to the Hall with me, and eat fast; I'll collect you when I see that you're done."

O

The meal went by fast, because nobody bothered to make conversation with Albus. He had pretty much ostracized the entire grade. Piling down his food, eager to see if there would be some sort of diagnosis, he waved to Professor Desulgon as he took his last bite, and was swiftly escorted down to the hospital wing.

His last stay here had followed the Lunar Massacre; he vaguely remembered a potion that bubbled and hissed and a month of nightmares. He'd felt terribly weak after that experience—but he had no idea what it felt like to be _really_ weak until recently.

Madam Birchbaum frowned and held her fists to her hips. "What now?" she asked. "What sort of thing has Potter gotten himself into?"

"The better question is, what sort of thing has gotten its way into Potter," replied Professor Desulgon. "Albus here is having an immense amount of difficulty in his attempts to use magic, and we're hoping you can find out why."

"Difficulty in using magic?" asked Madam Birchbaum. "I haven't had a student come to me for this before. Would you mind explaining a bit further?"

"I certainly could," said Professor Desulgon. "Ever since arriving, Albus has found himself struggling where he excelled with ease—to the point where it cannot possibly be any fault of his own. But I believe discovering the source of the fault is probably closer to your area of expertise than my own, so I've brought him here."

"Let's have a look, then, shall we?" asked Madam Birchbaum, taking his arm and dragging him to one of the beds. "Sit on the end, I'll be over with all due haste."

Professor Desulgon sat down on a chair near the bed. "I'm concerned, so I'll stay and see if Cynthia finds anything," he said.

Madam Birchbaum came back out with a needle—just a long, thin piece of metal that looked like what might be used by a giant for sewing. It was the size of Albus's forearm.

"Now, I know this looks intimidating," she said as Albus blanched. "But really, don't worry. This isn't even going to pierce your skin; I have to lay it along your back. Take your shirt and robe off…"

Albus slid out of his shirt and, as Madam Birchbaum instructed him, laid himself down flat on his stomach on the bed with the pillow under his torso.

"It's going to feel a bit weird, but it's not going to hurt," she said. "Just breathe properly…"

She placed the needle along his spine, and like a magnet, his back snapped up until his spinal cord was stuck flat against the cold needle. He trusted Madam Birchbaum, but it still felt like his body was being bent in ways it shouldn't normally bend.

She grabbed both ends of the needle and twisted it slightly; his back twisted a little bit, and he felt her gloved hands probing the skin on his back near the base of his spine, applying pressure to certain points; what was she doing? She twisted the needle the other way, and started applying pressure to the same points.

"Now, Poppy Pomfrey did the same thing to me once when I was here," said Professor Desulgon. "What exactly does this do?"

"Sometimes, when you're all tense, you can get knots in your muscles," said Madam Birchbaum as she switched to checking the crown of his head. "The same thing can happen with magic; these gloves can sense when there's a build-up of _magical_ pressure. I'm checking the seven most magical centers in the body to see if any of them are currently experiencing any turmoil which may impede the natural flow of Kinesis through the body. Please turn over, Albus."

Albus complied. The needle was still stuck to his straightened spine, making his movements awkward. Madam Birchbaum felt around his stomach, his forehead, his heart, and his throat, and then came dangerously close to a particularly sensitive region. After this examination was through, she rolled him over and detached the needle; he took a deep breath, and for some reason, he felt extremely relaxed.

"Your emotions and energies would appear to be well-balanced," said Madam Birchbaum. "I don't think the problem is physical, especially since it only happened recently. More likely your state of mind has been changed, even if you do not realize it. If I didn't already know the answer to this question, I'd ask you if there were any traumatic events in your recent past."

Albus stared—how would she know the answer to that question? Then he realized that obviously she knew, because she had been treating him the day after it happened.

He nodded, and Professor Desulgon cleared his throat and said, "The Lunar Massacre."

"Yes, I have to think that might be it," she said. "When you witness something as disturbing as a mass murder, it does things to your head."

"But… I was fine for the rest of that year," said Albus.

"A muscle doesn't usually tighten up until after you stop using it. You took a three-month break from magic. And besides, it's hard to come to terms with something like that until some time has passed. I think the effects were just delayed."

Albus didn't really accept this argument fully, but Madam Birchbaum was the medical professional, so he had to agree with her until it was proven otherwise.

"I don't know what else it could possibly be," she said.

_My wands?_ thought Albus, an eye twitching.

"So what you have to do is this," she said. "You've just got to come to terms with everything. Meditation would be recommended. Think about it at night before you go to bed. Accept that it has happened, and that you cannot change it. Purge it from your emotional well-being. Do not let it affect you any longer."

"But it _doesn't_ affect me," protested Albus. "It really doesn't. I haven't thought about it in _months_ because I know it affects me so much."

"Exactly," said Madam Birchbaum, and Professor Desulgon nodded.

"Exactly what?"

"You've been avoiding the memory, so it's still there," said Madam Birchbaum. "You've pushed it to the back of your mind, but the back of your mind is the place where it can do the most damage. Bring out the memory and slay it, Albus. It will be no easy task, but I think you can do it."

"You're talking so… so…" Albus was so frustrated he was unable to grasp the word.

"Metaphysical?" suggested Professor Desulgon.

"I don't know what that means," admitted Albus.

"Abstract? Theoretical?"

"Yeah, that," said Albus. "I just want to know what I should _do._"

"You should think about the memory as often as you can before bed each night," said Madam Birchbaum. "And… I don't really have any concrete advice I can give you. Just mull over the thought and try to purge yourself of the emotions it brings to mind."

"I should act like it never happened?"

"That should be a last resort," she said. "What I mean is… this memory is like a pile of dirt, and you need to clean out your mind. I really can't give you any advice other than these metaphorical images. You could write to a more experienced professional, I suppose…"

"We'll do that if he still has the problem in the near future," said Professor Desulgon. "Meanwhile I will spread the word to his other teachers, explaining the problem and telling them not to push him too hard. Albus, you and I _will_ sort this out. I will help you whenever I can. Come to me whenever you need."

"Okay," said Albus. "Can I get back to class, then?" He was annoyed at how much he was missing of Diwand Spells for this unhelpful nonsense.

"You took him here during a class?" asked Madam Birchbaum, frowning.

"It's of the utmost importance to both of us," replied Professor Desulgon. "I thought it best to find the problem out as soon as possible. And yes, Albus, I will escort you back to class now. Just remember what Madam Birchbaum has said, and I think you'll be okay."

O

"I have a very special kind of flower for you today," said Professor Longbottom that Friday, clearly excited about something. "I want you to watch what these plants do, and tell me what you think they are."

Lucas's hand was in the air.

Professor Longbottom raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Lucas?"

"They're Floo flowers," said Lucas. "They—"

"AH—ah—ah! Don't spoil the surprise for everyone else, but yes, and I'm sure you know what they do! Ten points to Gryffindor."

Lucas reddened and shrunk his head into his shoulders a bit with a shy smile.

"Look at him," whispered Albus to Exo. Aidan was on his other side, listening. "Watch him blush and act all meek whenever anyone compliments him. I really don't think that's genuine. I think he's putting it on. He's only _pretending_ to be all humble and timid so that people don't call him an egghead."

"Or, you know, it could be genuine," said Aidan, glaring.

"I don't think so," said Exo, shaking his head. "I think Albus is right."

"Well, you know what?" said Aidan. "I think that _you're_ putting on an act, telling everyone that Lucas is putting on an act, because you don't like him since he's in your House and smarter than you and he's stolen your spotlight."

"I'm not mad at him for stealing any spotlight!" hissed Albus. "And I could _beat_ him if my wands were working properly!"

"Stop making excuses—"

"Boys, pay attention or you'll miss it!" called Professor Longbottom.

Still simmering at each other, they both turned back to face the Floo flowers.

Albus knew what this was about. Aidan thought, like most of the school, that what he had done to Lucas had been purposeful. Aidan didn't approve, and so he was siding with the kid he'd met last week rather than his friend of over two years.

Albus directed his attention to the flowers just in time—with a sizzle and then a sharp _crack,_ one of the flowers disappeared.

The class all gave a collective gasp of appreciation.

"Can anyone tell me what just happened?" asked Professor Longbottom. "Yes, Mia?"

"The Floo flower has the ability to transport itself to a different location if it feels it isn't getting enough sunlight, water, or nutrition," said Mia. "It warps to a sunnier, healthier spot where it has a better chance of surviving."

"Marvelous answer, ten points to Hufflepuff. Yes, that's right. Now, as you may have noticed by the name, Floo flowers are where we get Floo powder. Or, that's where we used to get Floo powder. And by the way, you can't just crack open a stem and get the powder—it's made using other materials, too; the recipe is a closely guarded secret. The company Floo-Pow is the only company that knows how to make it. Other people who attempt to make their own are often disappointed—if they're left alive to feel disappointment, that is. The substance we extract from the Floo plant is one that is found deep underground, or deep underwater, or high in the air. The Floo plant sinks its roots miles underground and absorbs natural magical substances called _Blicks_. Does anyone know what a Blick is?"

The name triggered a memory, but Albus lost it while grasping for it. He remembered quickly, though—black streaks rushing past an underwater window. He raised his hand high.

"Yes, Albus?" asked Professor Longbottom, apparently very surprised that anyone knew anything about Blicks.

"They're the big black blobs in the water in Digher Straits," said Albus.

"That's right, they are," said Professor Longbottom. "You've been on the Loch Stock Liner?"

"Once," said Albus. "Over the summer."

"Yes, you're right—Blicks are mostly found in Digher Straits. For anyone who doesn't know, Digher Straits is the name given to the network of waterways which run all across the world—almost like the Floo Network. The Loch Stock Liner is like the Knight Bus of the sea. It collects the Blicks that are naturally found in Digher Straits. Maintenance on the Liner is costly, so in addition to passenger fare, the LSL gets its funding by collecting Blicks in the Straits and selling them to Floo-Pow so they can be made into Floo Powder and fuel for vehicles like the Knight Bus. I won't test you on any of this, by the way, but I think it's extremely interesting to know. Blicks began to settle at the bottom of the ocean millions of years ago. Just as petroleum is formed by decaying organic material, as you might learn if you're taking Muggle Studies, Blicks are formed from decaying magical material. The magic inside the organism is altered, becoming a substance called a Blick, usually about a foot long, half a foot high, half a foot wide. Blicks can be tapped as a source of magical energy that provides swift transportation. When a large amount of Blicks collect in one place—it's not clear exactly why this happens, but it does—they will create, in the space around them, a sort of channel like the Floo Network. Putting a ship inside this channel is an excellent way to provide swift transportation. Blicks can also be found high in the air—but they're usually invisible—or deep underground. Floo roots only need to find one Blick to fuel the plant's teleportation system for life; then the roots retract all the way back into the plant before it vanishes to find a sunnier spot. When it's ready to die, it teleports its seeds all around the globe."

He poked one of the Floo plants; it shivered. He gave it a sharp whack with the back of his hand, and it vanished.

"Today, we're just going to do drawings of the plant so that you can better understand its anatomy. There are very subtle differences between this plant and the Pyoit plant; you'll need to know the differences for your exam. Everyone take a plant."

Albus scribbled a portrait of his Floo plant and, like most of the class, he had to ask for a second plant after the first one disappeared on him. Professor Longbottom concluded their meeting by showing them a Floo plant without its roots retracted. Professor Longbottom waved his wand, lining out the roots. They reached to the front of the largest greenhouse from the rear—a trip the length of a Quidditch stadium—and looped back in three hundred and seventy-nine round trips before they reached their end.

Albus ate lunch and ventured to Transfiguration, where Lucas was still refusing to offer him help, much to his delight. Alec, unlike most of Albus's other friends, was starting to become warmer to Albus again, mostly due to his annoyance at Lucas being more of a know-it-all than Rose and Aidan. Alec even started giving Albus advice on his spellwork, which was actually helpful—Albus started improving ever so slightly.

Now that Alec had been friendly as ever to Albus again, so had Mia. Mia was edging her way into Albus's friend group, and was a great source of information on Herbology. Albus had thought she was a fairly cranky person at first, but she was a lot nicer so far this year. She and Alec had started cuddling up while studying, too; Albus wondered how long this would last, and if this sort of thing was going to start happening to him and Holly at any point.

By the end of the Transfiguration double period, he was utterly exhausted—he had been working harder than anyone else in the class, trying to squeeze all of his magic that was possible into his work. Yet even with a week of Madam Birchbaum's "meditation," he was gaining little progress. Alec was helping, but Albus was still below the level that would be expected of a second year, and he had to pick up the pace soon, before there were any exams testing him on practical skills.

He dragged himself to the Current Events classroom, slumping in his chair and waiting for Professor Glinrow to start talking. But before the class started, she eyed him down and then made her way towards his desk to talk to him.

"Albus… you look dreadfully exhausted."

"Maybe a little," mumbled Albus.

Professor Glinrow patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, Albus," she said. "You don't have to come to this optional class. You're in A.R.M.—that's more like four classes—and you're taking every other elective. You really don't have to take _seventeen courses._ Go get some sleep or catch up on work; I shall see you in Runes."

Albus nodded glumly. He loved this class, but he loved relaxing more at this point. He packed up his bag and walked back to the common room. Taking Professor Glinrow's advice, he was able to get in some work before he had to go to Quidditch tryouts. Tryouts would have caused him to miss Madam Duopold's Quidditch Studies, his other optional elective, so he didn't feel too bad about skipping Current Events this week.

As Captain, James made him go through the same drill that Dominique made him attempt, with the floating golf balls. This time, however, James did not participate—as Captain, he was allowed to choose his position, and these tryouts were for the reserve squad only. But now that James wasn't a factor, Albus excelled—he gathered twice as many of the balls as both of his competitors combined. He saw James with an impressed look on his face as he descended, and _finally,_ Albus remembered what it was like to impress someone.

Having secured his place as first reserve, Albus watched the competition between the other two prospective Seekers who had tied. Harlan Gand, the porky prospective from last year, had returned, and so had the second reserve Seeker from last year, Abbott Ashdown. Abbott defeated Harlan by a narrow margin, and James had to subdue Harlan as the massive boy charged at him, begging him to make a third reserve position.

"EVERYONE!" bawled Harlan. "EVERYONE WILL ALWAYS TURN ME DOWN BECAUSE I AM FAT!"

"Oh, shut up, it has nothing to do with you being fat!" retorted James. "It has everything to do with you being an inadequate Seeker. If you were fat and good, I'd take you!"

"PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE! THIS IS MY LAST YEAR!"

"Good! Think of it as your last year of losing the Seeker tryouts."

After a last mournful howl from Harlan, James cast a Silencing Charm on the poor seventh year and then congratulated Albus and Abbott. Albus had to sprint to catch dinner before his Wandless Magic double period, but he felt better about himself now than he'd felt at any point in the past two weeks.

Because he was late to dinner, he was also slightly late to his Wandless Magic class. The only available seat was next to Eftan. As Albus sat down, giving his old friend a smile, Eftan briefly glanced over at him, gave a courteous nod—at least he finally acknowledged Albus—and then he turned his gaze back up at Professor Skower.

"Potter. Late. Five points from Gryffindor."

"I was—"

"—late. You were late. That's all you were. Enough on it, we're starting class."

Albus settled back into his seat with a mutinous scowl. He looked over at Eftan, who rolled his eyes and gave a bit of a laugh. Finally, Eftan wasn't being dismissive. Albus wondered whether Eftan was annoyed with Lucas, too.

"Elementalism," said Professor Skower. "Using magic to affect the elements. Most people find it easiest to control fire, as fire is an energy rather than a substance, and all magic deals, in most part, with energy. Electricity is also common, though it's very difficult to give something more than a static shock. And so we will be practicing fire magic. Can anyone here do any wandless fire magic already? It's not highly uncommon."

Albus started to recall his own experiences before school. One of his favorite tricks—one that he'd learned before he even had his wand—was to set the hem of his brother's cloak on fire.

He raised his hand. Only one other person was raising his hand—Aidan.

"Potter and Finch-Fletchley? Good. Potter, you were late, so come up here and I'll give you a chance to make up those points for Gryffindor."

Albus heaved himself out of his seat and walked up to the front of the room. He hadn't tried this trick in a while—not since first year—because he'd learned much better magic that could be used with wands. He hoped he didn't disappoint everyone again.

"Every person who uses wandless magic has learned it differently," said Professor Skower. "So do whatever you used to do before you had your wand, and we'll see if you can still produce wandless magic on your own. Go on."

He gestured to a piece of parchment on his desk, which floated up into the air.

"Set it on fire."

Albus glanced over at the rest of his House. Lucas, as he noticed, was looking strongly irritated. Why was that? Couldn't _perfect_ little Lucas Lotor do wandless magic?

Then Albus remembered the incident that got him detention. _That_ had been wandless magic. That had been the most powerful wandless magic he'd ever performed, save for destroying his own house.

Feeling very confident, he looked over to the floating parchment and cocked his head to one side.

The parchment burst into flame—it really _burst_ into flame. Wisps of fire came roaring from a ball four times the size of a Quaffle. The students in front leaned back sharply as heat blasted from the incinerated paper; Professor Skower's desk began to burn as well. A second later, it was over, and ash drifted down where the paper had been.

Professor Skower waved his hand without a wand; water appeared out of nowhere, showering his desk as a strong gust of wind blew, putting out the flames.

"Well," he coughed. "Well. Potter. That was… some fire. Ten points to Gryffindor." He peered at Albus closely. "You seem to have a lot of energy bottled up. Does that sort of thing happen often when you're angry?"

"Yes," said Albus earnestly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucas lower his brow to a challenging glare.

"Finch-Fletchley, come on up. Potter, you can go back to your seat."

Aidan looked intimidated as Albus returned to his seat next to Eftan. Eftan gave him an impressed smirk and then turned back to watch Aidan.

Eftan's mannerisms had become a lot more like other Slytherins lately. Albus hoped that it wasn't permanent. Not that Slytherin was bad—it just didn't seem like the Eftan he knew.

Aidan set the corner of his parchment on fire by snapping his fingers. Professor Skower nodded, but looked amused.

"Normally that's very good. Of course, next to Potter's, it looked rather pathetic, didn't it…? But yes, that's the idea. Er, two points to Hufflepuff, I guess."

Aidan frowned and went back to his seat moodily.

"So it seems that some of you can already do some basic wandless magic. Albus? Aidan? Are either of you already tired from that?"

Aidan nodded slightly, holding up his pinched fingers to signify "a little," but Albus shook his head. In fact, he was feeling _more_ energetic.

"It is normal to tire oneself out with wandless magic. It takes a lot more energy to do wandless magic, because there is no channel to decrease Resistance. Thus it takes more energy to get the magic out of your body in the way that you want. That's why most people don't choose to go without wands. But then, why is _one_ wand usually preferable to _two_ wands? Can anyone answer?"

Professor Skower was so insistent upon exactitudes that he continually shot down answers that weren't perfect. As a result, no one was daring to answer his questions anymore, for fear that they weren't precisely right.

"No one? The answer is that while one wand decreases the resistance, using two wands does not decrease the resistance any further. Instead, if you're firing spells from two wands, you're using twice the energy to produce the Kinesis needed to form two separate jets of your spell. In addition, many people find it extremely difficult to coordinate their attacks while using two wands, so it's not a widely used option. Many people in the Auror office, however, now carry two wands at the ready in case they need to power their way through a tight situation. If they were in a prolonged duel, though, they would tire quicker.

"Anyway, today we're going to talk about how to perform wandless fire magic. Get ready for some of the most difficult and stressful magic you will perform."

True to his word, Professor Skower thoroughly exhausted the class by making them conjure as much fire as possible. In the two hour double period, with the strenuous activity of wandless magic, everyone left the room feeling very grateful that today was Friday and they would be able to sleep in. Only Albus seemed to be unaffected by the exercises; he was almost too excited to go to bed, in fact. He had just shown up Lucas for once, and he was starting to look forward to every Wandless Magic class, the only class where he could currently beat the perfect Lucas. It was a shame that the double periods would only be coming once a month.

Albus decided to chat up Eftan while his Slytherin friend wasn't turning a cold shoulder.

"Hey, Eftan," said Albus. "That's a really neat-looking second wand. What are your wands made of again?"

"My first one is pine and Acromantula bristle," said Eftan. His voice had grown deeper and much more monotonous since the last time he spoke with Albus. "Thirteen inches, matured in earth. My second one is cyprus and dragon heartstring, also thirteen inches and matured in flame. They both have rigidity scale seven."

"Wow, you remember all that?"

"I love my wands," said Eftan, shrugging. "They haven't let me down yet."

Albus's hand twitched on his own wand.

"I did more wandless magic today than I thought I would be able to do," said Eftan. "But I've always had a lot of magic in me. At least, I think so. Why else would Mr. Earle have come to tell my parents about my magical abilities when I was only months old, instead of waiting until I was eleven like with every other kid?"

With a jolt, Albus's world suddenly snapped together like the pieces of a puzzle; it all fell into place, like water filling the empty spaces in between a pile of rocks.

_If you must hear the truth, I don't think that boy is Muggle-born._

That was what the Sorting Hat had said.

Was Eftan adopted? Was that why Mr. Earle had to speak to his parents—to warn them of what exactly they were adopting?

Eftan had already broken away from him to go talk with Sylvester, and Albus was left hanging with his mouth hanging open.

O

On Saturday, Albus sat down with Gil for the first mentor meeting of the semester. Albus explained his problem, but Gil had no idea what it meant. Gil didn't offer too much help; in fact, lately, he'd seemed depressed when Albus had seen him, and today was no exception. Albus promised himself he'd ask if it continued. Madam Birchbaum's advice on meditation was still doing nothing, and Albus practiced all throughout the weekend trying to do simple spells—which was very difficult when Lucas was in the dormitory practicing O.W.L. level magic, and every teacher was constantly complimenting Albus on the truly extraordinary work of Lily in Ravenclaw—work that, from what Albus was hearing, seemed to be more advanced than Albus's current level of performance. All the words that the teachers had been using to describe Albus—precocious, phenomenal, sensational—were now being used as the descriptors of Lucas and Lily, and as much as Albus hated to admit it, he really did miss the spotlight.

His head was still spinning over what he'd concluded about Eftan. Was his friend really not Muggle-born like he'd always assumed due to his Muggle parents? Was that why he'd been sorted into Slytherin?

Then who were Eftan's real parents? And were Muggles even allowed to adopt magical children? That seemed like something that would never have been permitted until after the global revelation, and obviously Eftan had been born twelve years prior to that. He'd have to ask his father whether Muggles could adopt from wizarding families.

As he walked down to lunch that day, he was surprised by the fact that Lucas walked up to him willingly.

"Albus," he said sternly. "You still need to pick up your work for Transfiguration. No offense, but you're still churning out like a first year's work. And as much as I may or may not like it, I'm your partner, so when can I help you get it together?"

"Professor Desulgon understands that I'm having an unidentified block in my magic," said Albus, "and, no offense, but you give advice like a first year."

"I was way better in my first year than you are now," shot Lucas.

"Go to hell!"

Lucas stormed away.

Albus felt a pat on his back as they were about to enter the Great Hall. He turned around, expecting Alec or Exo—and was entirely floored to see Scorpius Malfoy winking at him.

"Nice one, Potter," he said, smirking.

Albus smiled back and gave a thumbs-up, immediately wishing he could take back the childish gesture; it probably wasn't very suave. He tried to make up for it with a cool facial expression, and it may or may not have worked; Scorpius gave him a nod before breaking off to join the Slytherin table.

He was so ecstatic at the possibility that he'd cracked Scorpius's cold exterior that, until he reached his spot next to Exo at the Gryffindor table and had already started eating, he didn't notice the foreign object at the front of the room. After a moment in which he realized something was different, he leaned away from the table to see past all of the heads, and saw, in the center of the hall in front of the High Table, the winged boar statue that had taken the A.R.M. applications last semester. As he watched, a nerdy-looking girl with vivid violet hair—she must have dyed it—placed a small piece of paper in the mouth of the statue. The boar chewed up the paper and swallowed it. Albus didn't care to think about how the papers were retrieved once they were in the statue's stomach.

"Is that for the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Albus, the sudden thought exciting him.

"It sure is," said Exo. "Dad thinks that there might be a lot of applicants, so he's narrowing down the ones that they're actually going to take to Beauxbatons to let them submit their names to the Grail of Lightning."

"So Hogwarts has the Goblet of Fire," said Kolby, "and Beauxbatons has the Grail of Lightning. What does Durmstrang have?"

"The Chalice of Ice," answered Rose, who had been listening from behind a large book.

Albus's eyes popped open as he recognized the bushy head of red hair that next approached the statue.

"Molly's putting her name in!" he said excitedly.

Rose slammed the book down on the table, upending several nearby glasses, and she gasped. "Wicked!"

Molly submitted her name to the statue and gave a little fist-pump after the statue accepted it. She hopped over a glowing turquoise-white line on the floor and started chatting excitedly with her friends Missy Thompson, Nicole Waters, and Peggy Sanford, who were all patting her on the back and pumping fists as well.

"She's _got_ it," said Albus, grinning wide-eyed at all of his friends. "She's won the past I don't know how many Dueling Tournaments… She's top of her year… She's Head Girl! There's no way she's not going to be the Hogwarts champion!"

"I can't wait to see it happen," said Exo. "Dad won't tell me anything about it. Which I guess is smart, because I would have immediately told you guys everything he told me…"

After they finished eating, but before the general group had gotten up to leave, Professor Desulgon tapped Albus on the shoulder.

"Albus, may I have a word with you outside?" he asked.

Albus nodded, and together they walked out of the Great Hall.

"I just thought I'd check up to see how you were doing with the blockage," said Professor Desulgon. "Have you been meditating?"

"I have."

"I assume by the timbre in your voice that it's not working?"

Albus shook his head no.

"That's too bad," said Professor Desulgon. "I didn't expect to see results this quickly, though. Still, I thought I'd ask. Meditating during the day? Thinking about everything before bed?"

"Yes."

"Then I think we'll know soon whether or not it's working, as long as you really have been diligent about working on it."

Albus felt that "soon" probably wouldn't be soon enough, and he would end up waiting a month to find out that the mental exercises weren't even helping in the slightest.

"Just do as much magic as you can in your free time," advised Professor Desulgon. "Don't wear yourself out over and over, but exercise your magic like you would exercise any other part of the body. Broken bones heal stronger, and misbehaving magic will snap back better, I believe. Anything else come up?"

Albus tilted his head. "I did really well in Wandless Magic the other day. Professor Skower said I have a lot of energy bottled up."

Professor Desulgon's brow crinkled. "Hm. That's… that's very interesting. …I would suppose, if I had to give it a guess right now, that all of your emotional magic is building up inside of you, but you can't access it normally because your emotions are tangled from the horror you witnessed—even if you don't realize it. As a result, you're more adept at wandless magic—which is more derivative of emotion—than wand magic, which is more connected to, ah, calculation. Does that make sense?"

"As much as anything we've talked about with respect to my problem," said Albus, shrugging.

Before Professor Desulgon could respond, Lily trotted over to him and leaned up on her tiptoes to tap him on the shoulder.

"Professor Desulgon, sir?" she said sweetly.

Professor Desulgon turned. "Lily! How are you? I was just having a chat with your brother, but I think we've just finished now—have we finished?" he checked, looking to Albus.

"Er. Yeah," said Albus, confused at what Lily needed from Professor Desulgon on a Saturday.

"Could we practice, then, sir?" she asked excitedly, bouncing on her heels.

"Of course we can!" said Professor Desulgon happily. "I'll meet you in the Transfiguration classroom, I'll just say a few more words to Albus here and then I'll be right over. Think of your happy thought now."

_Happy thought?_

"What was that about?" he asked Professor Desulgon.

"Oh. I'm teaching Lily the Patronus Charm!"

Professor Desulgon grimaced at the sudden change that came over Albus's expression. Albus felt the sudden urge to clutch his stomach—he felt sick. He felt upset, and angry, and hurt, and jealous, and vengeful, all at once. He'd never felt so many different negative emotions at one time.

"What?" he croaked.

Professor Desulgon winced. "Oh. That's right. You—you asked me last year, and I said that—we should wait until your third year, didn't I. Well… this is different…"

"Different how?" choked Albus.

"Lily asked me, and…" Professor Desulgon scratched the back of his neck. "She's in my House, you know, and she's the most prodigious first year student I've ever encountered… Last year I was stressed and didn't have much time, but right now I'm freer than I was when _you_ asked me… And I really meant to get to your Patronus this year, but seeing as how you're kind of… indisposed at the moment when it comes to magic, I…"

The corner of Albus's mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry, Albus," said Professor Desulgon.

Albus squeezed his eyes shut as he clenched his fists and teeth and turned away to walk back to his dormitory.

* * *

_**Review please! What did you like? Dislike? Want to see more of? Want to see less of?**_


	6. The Subterrestrial Express

_**So sorry about the delay. Just got my laptop back. But hey, now you get two chapters in four days! That's not such a bad deal.**_

_**Oh, and now with only 5 chapters uploaded as of yesterday, we have 3/4 of the hundred followers which, if we reach, I promised to do double uploads for a month. I will make good on that offer! This wave of love I've received from you guys... it makes me want to not go to class and just sit and write Albus Potter all day. (Obviously I cannot do that but I want to.) I love you all!**_

_**Now let's go visit Beauxbatons.**_

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

THE SUBTERRESTRIAL EXPRESS

O

"Albus, you okay?" asked Uncle Charlie before their Care of Magical Creatures class began. "You look like there's something troubling you."

"No, I'm fine," responded Albus, managing a smile.

And it was true. He was fine. Apart from his inability to do the easiest spells without a massive amount of practice, the torturous experience of sharing all of his classes with perfect little insufferable Lucas Lotor, the fact that Professor Desulgon had shown preference to his first year sister, and the altogether stress of the first month and a half of classes, he was feeling absolutely spectacular.

Professor Desulgon continued to tell Albus to try more meditation, or to change the way he was meditating, but these methods had still produced zero percent of any kind of result in his classroom performances. By now, none of his professors were requesting him to give a demonstration of spellwork in class anymore, and they all graded Albus's work with significantly more lenience, but it was still highly distressing to not be able to do the spells he could have worked out in his first year.

Professor Desulgon also claimed that he didn't _really_ expect Lily to develop her Patronus, but that he was trying because if she succeeded by the end of the year, it would make her the youngest known caster of the Patronus in history, which was apparently a big deal. She would have to do the charm before her twelfth birthday in May. Professor Desulgon called her "likely the most talented first year student ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts," although he also gave some credit for the achievements in modern wandlore.

And Lucas Lotor was the youngest known Animagus. The very reason he had _come_ to Hogwarts was that he was the most talented wizard for his age in history. How was Albus supposed to compete with these historical figures of his sister and new rival? Every time he thought about this, it depressed him further. He wished he could at least _try_ to compete.

Lucas was gathering a posse which included Eben and Kolby, Jonah and Toby, Parker Pullman, and all of the Gryffindor girls. He was so nice on the outside, but why was it only Albus who could see that Lucas was a total jerk on the inside? Lucas never spared an opportunity to try and make Albus lose face. He was nasty and spiteful towards Albus whenever no one else was near, and nobody else seemed to notice that he relished in his victories with an unbearable amount of arrogance. Lucas was better than anyone who'd ever attended Hogwarts, and he knew it, and he was going to make sure everyone else knew it, too.

"Apparently his parents are geniuses, too," Albus overheard Candice saying one day. "They're both Animagi. They'd been secretly teaching him to be an Animagus since he could walk, and he finally got it down when he started coming here."

Albus wished _his_ parents had been teaching him to be an Animagus for life. He would have probably become one by now! Lucas was just lucky that his parents ignored the rules like that.

Rose was friends with both Lucas and Albus. She tried to mediate the tension between them, but was always unsuccessful. She was enjoying her rivalry with Lucas, a rivalry which always resulted in Lucas's victory, but somehow still didn't find him as unpleasant company as she should have. Albus suspected it was because of Lucas's looks. No girl could resist being friendly with him. Even Roxanne was giving him looks when they passed in the hallway.

Now that most of Gryffindor was on Lucas's side, not including Riley and Scott, who were against Albus since his spat with Riley anyway, Albus only had Alec and Mia, Aidan (who out of loyalty decided to stay on good terms with him), Exo… and Holly.

Mia was the most sensible girl in their grade. She wasn't bedazzled by Lucas's charm, and rightly suspected that he was a bad egg underneath. Maybe the handsomeness wasn't affecting her because she was already dating Alec. She and Alec were pretty much inseparable now, except when they had to eat, depart to the dormitories, or attend separate classes. Albus still wondered how long it would last; he hoped it would last a while.

And Holly was always there for Albus. Every time he failed in Transfiguration, she was there to assist him, try and improve his form, just like Alec and Professor Desulgon. Albus was improving a little bit each day, but he was getting the feeling that he was also improving a little bit _less_ each day. With the amount of time spent out of his prime, he wondered, even if he suddenly got all his abilities back, if he could ever catch back up with the rest of the year. There was a lot of work he would have to do on the spells he'd missed.

"Everyone turn to page one hundred and ninety seven of _'The Hairiest and the Scariest!'_ announced Uncle Charlie. "We're going to be talking about Joynts today. Anyone know what a Joynt is?"

Rose, Aidan, and Lucas raised their hands; a familiar sight. Albus raised his hand, too.

"Albus?"

"A Joynt is a magical creature that can combine itself with other members of its own species to make one stronger Joynt."

"Exactly. Five points to Gryffindor. Everyone on page one hundred and ninety seven?"

"Ooh, it's so cute!" said Mia, holding up a picture on page one hundred and ninety five of a fluffy creature resembling a rabbit with giant eyes. It had a cute little smile with a tongue hanging out. "What does this one do?"

Uncle Charlie blinked.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just extra delicious."

Leaving Mia looking utterly mortified, he turned to lecture the class again.

Uncle Charlie was a great professor. Albus always enjoyed his classes. But then, he always enjoyed _any_ class which didn't involve using magic. He had that barrier—the Warkabull, as Professor Allira had predicted—which was blocking him from using magic, but there was nothing stopping him from showing his intellect in other areas. He began to deal with his problem by improving in his other subject areas. Now, he was matching Lucas answer for answer in subjects like Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. The only subject where Lucas was doing poorly was Divination, so Albus tried very hard to outdo him there. But the only subject where Albus was clearly ahead of Lucas by a wide margin was Potions.

In Potions, Albus could find shortcuts to brewing the proper draught that baffled even Professor Valon. Before this year, he had been focusing on the subjects requiring spellwork, which were much more appealing. This year, without the distractions of trying to keep up in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts—he was never going to catch back up, so why bother?—he was doing phenomenally well in Potions, and Professor Valon was giving so many points to Gryffindor that they were starting to catch back up to Ravenclaw.

Nobody could call Albus stupid anymore. It was clear that his talent, at least in Potions, was unmatched, and he could sense the envy within Lucas whenever Albus was the only one to receive full marks for the difficult potions.

This pride was what carried him through the torturous weeks. Albus couldn't wait until this blockage was cleared so that everyone could finally see who the better spell caster was.

As they left their Care of Magical Creatures class, Albus was feeling confident—he'd just corrected a wrong answer from Lucas, and he could sense the rage building up in the blond American.

"Albus!"

He turned around and searched the crowded hallway to find whomever had been calling him, but he didn't notice until the person was right in front of him.

"Gil!" said Albus, smiling widely. Gil didn't look as depressed anymore, which was good. "I didn't recognize you. Your hair is… blue now?"

Gil brushed away his bright blue bangs. "Thought I'd try something different."

"What's after blue, now that you've gone through every primary color?"

Gil shrugged. "Green? Hot pink?"

Albus laughed. "So what's up?"

"James asked me to tell you to go find him when you have the chance," recounted Gil. "Something about Lily."

"Something wrong?" asked Albus, worried. "Or did something really good happen?"

"Not sure. Go find out."

"I will," said Albus. "Thank you."

Albus jogged down to the Great Hall, wondering what this was about.

Had Lily gotten her Patronus?

He boiled over in anger again after remembering that she was getting lessons before him, despite being two years younger. If this was about her Patronus, he could only imagine what James wanted. _What's the matter, Al? You're the only one in the family who can't make a Patronus?_

But James hadn't been acting anywhere near as much of a bully as before Albus attended Hogwarts. Albus got the feeling that James respected his genius little brother.

Would that respect be gone, though, now that Albus was the worst student in the family?

He ate his lunch quickly and then walked over to find James further down the Gryffindor table. He tapped his brother on the shoulder; James looked around and nodded.

"Ah," he said, his mouth completely full and dripping food when he talked without a hint of manners. "Al. You gtt th mffj?"

"Excuse me?" chuckled Albus.

James swallowed and tried again. "You got the message? I wanted to talk to you."

"About Lily? Yeah, Gil told me."

"Good."

James stood up and, as they started to exit the Hall, he nodded over to the Slytherin table. Tabitha Floren waved back and got up, walking down to meet them. So James was still involved with her… Albus had been wondering.

James opened the door and held it for Tabby like a true gentleman, then gave her a hello kiss on the cheek. This was utterly transformed from his pig-like self in the hall. Tabby must have been beating some manners into him.

Hopefully James would keep her around.

"Have any of our teachers come up to you yet about Lily?" asked James.

"What?" asked Albus. "You mean how genius she is?"

"No, no, I mean recently," said James. "Recent Lily."

"Well, they wouldn't have," observed Tabby. "They think Al has enough on his plate with his own classes. Thirteen of them, and a weird emotional block with magic. It makes sense that they'd have gone to you first."

"What?" asked Albus, now growing worried.

"Lily isn't doing so well at the moment," said James tentatively.

"She's sick?"

"No, she's sucking at all her classes."

Albus was stunned. Of all the things it could have been, he wasn't expecting _that._

"Is she having a magical blockage, too?" he asked.

"No, she's not performing well in anything," said Tabby glumly. "She's so bright. I don't understand how she could be struggling in a single subject, let alone all of them."

"Professor Desulgon came up to me first and I thought he was joking," said James. "But then Neville came up to me and said the same thing. He seemed really worried. Then Tabby told me to talk to Hugo, you know, because the two are so close, but he says he doesn't know what's going on, just that she got really sad all of a sudden."

"I thought it might be that she didn't like being the only Ravenclaw in the family," said Tabby. "So maybe she's trying to be stupid so that she won't qualify for Ravenclaw. But James told me that doesn't sound like Lily."

"It doesn't," agreed Albus. Lily was level-headed and super smart. She never shared Albus's anxieties about not getting in Gryffindor, and she seemed perfectly fine with the opportunity to be different than both of her brothers and all of her cousins.

Or had she? Albus reminisced back to her Sorting, recalling her broken composure as she approached the hat, remembering what she had been mouthing towards the end. _Gryffindor. Gryffindor. Gryffindor._

But it still didn't seem like Lily to do something so drastic which so obviously wouldn't work.

"Tabby and I have been bouncing ideas off of each other," said James. "About what it could be."

"I'm trying to figure out why it only happened now, seven weeks into the year," said Tabby. "Do you know if anything happened? Have you been keeping up with her?"

"No," admitted Albus weakly, now feeling very much like the world's worst big brother. He hadn't talked with Lily at all yet this year, neck-deep in his own problems and holding what he guiltily knew was a grudge against his sister, for taking preference with one of his favorite teachers just because she was in his House.

"Well, we just wanted to pick your brain for ideas," said Tabby. "If you know what's going on, definitely tell us as soon as possible. And talk to Lily."

"I'll talk to Lily," said James. "Al has his own stuff to worry about."

Albus knew he shouldn't have felt relieved, but he did. "Okay."

"But definitely keep an eye out," noted Tabby as the lunch mob started to exit. "All right, I'll see you around, Al."

James kissed Tabby quickly on the lips and then they broke off in separate directions. Albus stood dumbly for a while at the thought that Lily was doing worse than him now. He definitely couldn't be jealous of her anymore… He wondered what Professor Desulgon had to say on the matter. But then, he hadn't had a very close discussion with their Transfiguration teacher like last year since it became clear that Professor Desulgon put more stock in Lily.

Not anymore, though, now that Lily wasn't doing so hot.

These thoughts kept popping up in his head, and he kept trying to suppress them because it was terrible to think like this, but he couldn't stop himself. He sighed and moved on to Defense Against the Dark Arts, wondering why he was thinking this way about the little sister he had always loved so much.

And watching James's affectionate behavior towards Tabby was, against his own comfort, making him wish that his thing with Holly was something ever so slightly more.

O

On Friday at dinner, Wilcox stood to make an announcement, and Albus knew it was going to be a big one.

"Everyone!" he boomed with a magically enhanced voice, and the room fell silent at once when they saw that he was holding up a scroll.

"I have, on here, the names of the students who have been chosen to represent Hogwarts. Those whose names will be entered into the Grail of Lightning, should you wish to continue. And may I remind you that, should you indeed wish to continue, there will be no backing out. Now listen closely and do not applaud until I am finished. The twelve Hogwarts delegates for the Triwizard Tournament are the following students!

"From Gryffindor: Dylan Dunbar, Gordon Duvall, and Molly Weasley!"

Albus almost jumped up to start whooping, but the room was still completely silent; Wilcox had asked them to remain silent until he had read all of the names. He almost couldn't contain himself, and he looked over to Molly, who was silently screaming with her friends. Barry's brother Dylan was pumping a fist in victory as well.

"From Hufflepuff: Julian Garland and Olga Ryanger! From Ravenclaw: Dustin Darrow, Rona Kendrace, Xavier Pase, and Wanda Wallace! And from Slytherin, Brooke Baxter, Earl Nasture, and Asher Pierce!"

Albus cringed at the final name, and hoped to high heaven that Pierce wasn't chosen to represent Hogwarts. What an insult that would be.

He got out of his seat, as were many people down the tables, and ran to hug Molly, whose tears were glistening for joy. All he could hear was her friends shouting "You've got it! You'll get it!" and Molly yelling "I'll get it!"

Feeling very confident that Molly would be the Hogwarts champion, rather than the rest of those scrubs, Albus took his seat gleefully and settled down to hear the rest of Wilcox's speech.

"The teachers have also collaborated to put together groups of the seven most talented students from each year to accompany our champions to the selection by the Grail of Lightning," added Wilcox. "I will read out those names now. If you wish to have your name removed from the list, please see Professor Longbottom directly after dinner.

"From our first years, we have Prudence Auburn, Robin Bidgey, Rhea Carroll, Lauren Finch-Fletchley, Lily Potter, Sophie Rocksbone, Hugo Weasley! Second years, Aaron Finch-Fletchley, Gelbin Genderfield, Chester Glissendale, Miriam Irving, Wallace King, Kara Lark, and Fay Talmin! From our third years, Aidan Finch-Fletchley, Holly Glissendale, Eftan Griffiths, Lucas Lotor, Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and Rose Weasley! From our fourth years…"

Albus started grinning like a madman again, hearing almost nothing from that point on. He glanced over at Lucas, who seemed offended that Albus had been selected, which only fueled Albus's crazy grin further.

He did hear Tabitha Floren called, so he presumed that James's girlfriend was not just a pretty face. Roxanne, Lucy, and Louis were all going, too.

"And from our seventh years, Alexander Davis, Burt Edson, Nikki Ferrell, Gabriella Garland, Johanna Grinnell, India Neva, and Peggy Sanford! Congratulations to all who were called."

Peggy Sanford was a friend of Molly's who had always been struggling with a slight problem with weight, and appeared to have put on more. They hugged, and then Molly collapsed on the floor on her knees, so happy that she could barely stand. Albus glowed with pride over his cousin's selection.

"On Halloween, which is a Thursday evening, before dinner, we will be sponsoring a trip to Beauxbatons for those students only," said Wilcox. "Don't worry—everyone will have the opportunity to watch the tasks, for only one Sickle per round trip. Anyway, back to the logistics of the Halloween trip. We will be taking the Subterrestrial Express. We will be staying over Beauxbatons that day into Friday, on which day the selected students will attend Beauxbatons classes to see what education is like in a foreign school."

"Like I don't know," laughed Lucas. The suck-ups around him guffawed as well.

"It will be an excellent experience for all," said Wilcox. "Oh—one last thing—if you wish to know, a Patronus will be sent into the Great Hall to announce the champions' names directly after the selection. Closer to the date, your teachers will inform you of the exact time to be in this room if you wish to know who was selected. That will be all, and I will give more relevant information as it becomes more relevant. Cheers, everyone! Congratulations to those selected!"

Albus was overflowing with ecstasy, up until the point when he saw Lily get up from her seat to talk to Professor Longbottom, whose face fell as she explained something.

Was Lily refusing to go to Beauxbatons?

Albus looked over at James and Tabby, both stricken deep with worry.

O

Often, when there was a date to which Albus was looking forward, he wished he could fast-forward time to get there. But time always decided to slow down instead. This occasion was different—time flew by without any warning. Before he knew it, two weeks had elapsed and he was standing at Hogsmeade Station, waiting for the train which would take them to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

He knew this school, informally. Aunt Fleur had attended Beauxbatons, and this was where Hagrid was serving as gamekeeper under the headmistress, Madame Maxime, whom Albus had met on several occasions. Hagrid and Madame Maxime weren't married, but they lived together and cared for Grawp, Hagrid's giant half-brother. He couldn't wait to see the three of them again—he'd written Hagrid a letter and had discovered that all three of them would be present.

Albus peered into the distance to look for the train, standing close by Holly. His hand accidentally brushed against the backs of her fingers. He twitched and recoiled, then wished he hadn't drawn his hand away. Holly didn't seem to notice.

The sun was almost beginning to set. As it dropped below the tracks, the group standing in wait could see a thin trail of smoke in front of the glowing orb.

"There we are," said one of the seventh years, rubbing his hands together excitedly. Albus picked up his bag from the ground and flashed a grin at Holly, who smiled back with her wide, gorgeous eyes.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"Awesome," she replied.

Her eye twitched and she turned away to cough.

Albus stood for a moment, trying to determine whether that response made sense. "Awesome?" Why would she have replied that? That sounded like something Albus would have said two years ago when he was—

—_so nervous about talking to Holly that he said nonsensical things._

He began to sweat, and as they started moving forward, her hand clasped his.

Albus breathed deeply, willing his sweat not to form on his hand while she was holding it. He helped her up onto the train, though it was only a six inch step, and they entered a compartment with all the other third years, as instructed by Wilcox.

This train—the Subterrestrial Express—was scarlet, like the Hogwarts Express, but with streaks of black distributed seemingly randomly about its exterior. Albus considered this, and wondered if the Subterrestrial Express also used Blicks to transport its passengers. He was going to mention this to Holly, but at the risk of sounding nerdy, he opted to keep his mouth shut.

Wilcox's voice echoed through the hall. "All right, everybody, close your compartment doors!" he said. "You shouldn't open them again until we're at level speed. You'll know when that happens because the ride will smooth out. I'll be up front with the other chaperones. See you at Beauxbatons in two hours! …Unless, of course, there's an incident and I am forced to come back there to sort it out. Please don't make me do that."

With a rumble, Lucas slid the door of the compartment shut. He was close to the door, and Albus took the seat farthest from Lucas. Holly was sitting next to him, and leaning ever so lightly on his forearm.

Then there was a metallic groan from underneath. The train shuddered, and then it tilted very slightly, and with a sound like a swarm of bees, it began to dig through the ground. It gathered up speed quickly, and in seconds, their windows were completely obscured, and the only light in the compartment was from a swinging lantern suspended above them. A low rumbling was constant and the train trembled slightly as it went.

"I hope there's enough oxygen in here for the trip," said Lucas, tapping his wand nervously on his leg.

"No, I'm sure this was all a set-up, intended to kill us," said Albus, rolling his eyes.

Lucas exhaled sharply through his nose like a bull.

Rose tried to mediate the tension. "Hey, guess what, everybody?" she said excitedly. "We're going to Beauxbatons!"

"Yeah," said Aidan. "I wonder how different it'll be."

"Father wanted to send me to Durmstrang," said Scorpius, and everyone in the compartment gave a little start when he spoke. Very few people were privileged with hearing Scorpius talk. "But Mother said it was too far."

"Where is Durmstrang, anyway?" asked Eftan quietly.

"North," said Rose. "The very tip of Scandinavia, I think."

"How're they getting to Beauxbatons?"

"They have a ship that was invented by an old headmaster at Durmstrang that can travel from any body of water to another."

The rumbling finally stopped, and now outside their windows, there was nothing but black and streaks of slightly darker black rushing past.

"Hey, I bet those are Blicks," said Albus.

"Oh, like we talked about in Herbology?" said Holly, glancing out.

_So she _is_ interested in Blicks,_ thought Albus dumbly. _Or… maybe she's just pretending to be interested in what I'm interested in because she likes me!_

Lucas opened the door. "We must have hit top speed."

"So, what do we do for two hours?" asked Aidan.

"I'm going to go wish Molly luck," said Albus, rising from his seat.

"I'll go with you," said Holly. "I need to stretch my legs, anyway."

Willing his palm to stay dry again, Albus stepped over the legs of the group to get out, but right as his upper body went through the door, his legs slammed to a halt and he toppled onto the floor of the train.

"Hey!" he yelled, whirling around to face Lucas, whose legs he had tripped over.

"Yo, don't blame me," said Lucas, holding up his hands. "You tripped. My legs were motionless the whole time."

"Bullshit," spat Albus, a phrase he'd picked up from James.

"Whoa, now, whoa!" came a familiar voice from the hall. Albus cringed and turned to see Professor Desulgon with his hands on his hips.

"Albus, language," he said. "Five—er, don't do it again."

Albus suspected that Professor Desulgon wasn't taking off points because he still felt bad for not having believed that there was some blockage in Albus's magic.

It was a good thing that Desulgon had overheard that, and not one of the other chaperones. All of the Heads of Houses had accompanied them, and Madam Duopold tagged along, probably because she didn't really do much up at Hogwarts anyway.

Lucas glared at Albus, and Albus at Lucas, until Holly nervously stepped between them and took Albus's hand to bring him out.

The warmth from Holly's fingers removed all feelings of tension, and Albus walked with her down to the seventh year compartments. There were two compartments, because in addition to the seven seventh years who were chosen to accompany the champions, most of the champions were seventh years. The doors were already open.

Molly was not in the first compartment they checked, and there were only three people in the second. Albus and Holly peered in.

"Hi, Albus," said Xander Davis. "Molly and Peggy went down to one of the compartments in the back."

"Why?" asked Albus.

"I don't know, I think they needed to talk. Girl stuff, you know."

Albus peered down the hallway, where two other seventh year girls were emerging from a compartment. They were laughing about something; Albus wondered what was going on down there.

"Well, I want to wish her luck," said Albus, heading down the aisle and squeezing past the other girls. The door from which they'd exited was still slightly open; Albus pushed it open further, and found a heart-wrenching scene.

Peggy was sitting on the floor with her back against one of the seats, sobbing loudly into her hands. Molly was sitting next to her, hugging her and patting her on the back.

"It's okay," she was saying. "It's okay…"

"It's not," wept Peggy.

"F—" Albus and Holly twitched— "those bitches. Don't let them bother you. Some mistakes are just… slightly bigger than others…"

Molly turned around to see Albus and Holly staring in rigidly, and her eyes widened as she waved them out. She leaned over and slid the door shut when they were gone.

"I wonder what happened," said Holly concernedly, looking back to the closed door as they walked back up the aisle.

"I don't know," said Albus.

"Your cousin is a good friend, to be there for Peggy when she needs comforting," said Holly quietly.

As they passed the seventh year compartments again, Albus heard jeering female voices from within:

"Yeah, Preggy Sanford's bawling her eyes out on the floor in there like she's going into labor!"

_Her name's "Peggy," not "Preggy,"_ thought Albus bemusedly.

"Oh, goodness," said Holly, a hand to her mouth as if she'd just realized something.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Holly quickly.

"No, tell me, what?"

Holly glanced back at Molly's compartment, grimaced, and then pulled Albus into an empty compartment just past the seventh years.

"Those girls in that compartment called her 'Preggy,'" she said sadly.

"Yeah, I heard that," said Albus. "Are they making fun of her? Her name? What does 'Preggy' mean?"

"Maybe she's pregnant," said Holly, softer than a whisper.

Albus gawked.

"Oh," he muttered.

"Oh, I feel so bad," said Holly. Her fingers tightened around her wand. "I just want to—to go in there and hex all those people who are making fun of her—"

"Er," said Albus.

She relaxed back in the seat, and it became clear that they weren't going back to the third year compartment.

Albus's brain started shouting a hundred different things at him at the same time. _Kiss her! No, she's upset! Hold her hand! Kiss her! Hold her hand! Hold her! Kiss her hand! Look her in the eye! Kiss her eye! What? What are you talking about, brain? Say something! Kiss something!_

He sat in silence for another minute or so before placing his hand gently on hers.

"I'm sure it's all okay," he said as she smiled softly up at him. "Molly will hex those girls. She's good at that. You don't have to."

At least it was a coherent sentence. Holly nodded and leaned her head against the wall of the compartment, and sighed.

Albus tried to make things less awkward. "D'you want to play chess or something?" he asked.

Holly sat up. "I LOVE chess!" she said.

O

She evidently wasn't joking. Holly took six out of their eight games, and the other two were draws. She seemed delighted that she found something at which she was better than Albus.

When the train skidded to a stop and they filed out of the train, with the dusk outside seeming like nothing compared to what was under the ground, Aidan looked over to him excitedly—Albus realized how it must have seemed, since he and Holly were alone in a compartment for two hours.

"Did you kiss her?" asked Aidan quietly, with a very serious face.

"No!" said Albus, a little too defensively.

"Well, you _should!_" said Aidan, before Holly turned around to see what they were talking about, and he moved away.

"Welcome, Hogwarts students!"

The voice was all too familiar, and Albus jumped up in the air when he heard it. He spun around to the source and ran to give Hagrid a big hug.

"Evenin', Albus!" said Hagrid, giving a hearty laugh. "Nice ter see yeh again! Yeh haven' written nearly enough! All righ', Louis, Lucy, Roxanne, Hugo?"

"Good evening, Hagrid," chimed Lucy, Louis, Roxanne, and Hugo, all joining in the extra-large hug.

Most of the students by the train were still gawking at Hagrid's size; Albus wondered what they'd think when they met Madame Maxime.

"Rubeus, how nice to see you again," said Wilcox, walking over to shake Hagrid's hand.

"Ah, good evenin', Professor Wilcox, sir!" said Hagrid, taking Wilcox's hand in a grip that caused their Headmaster to wince. "Bin a while, Professor! How's Exorian?"

"He's doing much better recently," said Wilcox, which was true; in the two months they'd been at Hogwarts, there had been two full moons, and Exo seemed to be riding out the transformations a bit smoother than before. Albus could still tell it wasn't exactly fun for his friend, but it didn't seem to be life-threatening like before, either. Did Hagrid know that Exo was a werewolf, or did he just know that Exo was "frail?"

Hagrid ushered them over to ten carriages which were like the ones pulled by the thestrals at Hogwarts, except these carriages were pulled by gigantic, white-gold horses with wings. Beauxbatons was sparing no expense putting on a show.

"They're beautiful," whispered Holly. "I want one."

"Me, too," was all Albus could say in the presence of these magnificent horses.

"They're Abraxans," said Hagrid. "Olympe breeds 'em. Get in, everyone, and take care not ter open the door in the air."

"In the _air?_" whispered a few frightened first and second years.

"All right, let's go by year again!" called Professor Wilcox. "Sixth and seventh years get two carriages each. Then that leaves one for the chaperones. Don't cause a scene in the air, please, we want to make our best impression for Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff. So don't make me come over to your carriage in the air—I will!"

"That kind of makes me want to cause a scene," said Lucas, "just so I can see him leap from his carriage to ours."

"I'll push you out," offered Scorpius. "That'd cause a scene."

Albus grinned, and Scorpius smirked back. It wasn't a _friendly_ gesture, exactly, but at least it was a gesture.

They all climbed into the carriages, which were roomy enough to accommodate everyone and still keep Albus and Lucas at a distance, and when all of the doors were closed, there was a sudden lurch, thunderous galloping, and then nothing but the flap of wings and the rush of wind past the crack in the door.

"We're over water," commented Aidan, looking down. "Is Beauxbatons on an island?"

"I hear Durmstrang is on an island," said Rose. "I think Beauxbatons is on a cliff."

"There it is!" cried Holly, pointing excitedly.

"What's it on?" asked Lucas.

"Nothing," replied Holly.

"What?"

"It's not on anything," said Holly, still pointing. "It's floating."

"Floating?" said Albus, leaning across Holly to get a better look. His eyes widened as he took in the marvelous sight.

It was still just light enough to see the palace in the distance. Indeed, it appeared to be floating. There was a small, sloping hill behind it which became a serene beach, and Beauxbatons Castle floated about a quarter mile above the beach.

"Beauxbatons _was_ somewhat modeled after the natural element of the sky," breathed Rose, who was looking out the other window. "I suppose it would only make sense that we'd find it in the sky. After all, Hogwarts for land is in the mountains and Durmstrang for the sea is on a snowy island in the middle of a lake."

The castle was completely motionless in its levitation, and was lit with more torches than necessary—perhaps a greeting. The horses speedily approached the floating castle, and just how Albus wondered where they would touch down, the horses skidded to a stop in thin air.

"What just happened?" asked Lucas, looking around.

Albus watched a neighboring horse touch down; chunks of earth were flying into the air when the hooves touched down. The dirt disappeared when it hit the ground again.

"I think it's an enchantment," said Albus. "The hills are invisible. It only _looks_ like the castle is floating."

"I guess that's less likely to end in disaster than levitating the entire castle," admitted Aidan.

"It's still really cool," said Rose. "How did they get the entire hill invisible? That must have taken some serious spellwork."

Albus turned his gaze to the castle, which seemed to be floating on air. This, combined with the light blue-gray stone from which it was formed, and the wispy white flames atop the towers, gave Beauxbatons Castle a look of airiness. It was a magnificent sight, and Albus suspected that any student coming here for his or her first year would be just as spellbound as those who see Hogwarts for the first time. One word summed it up: _presentation._ Unlike Hogwarts, which wore its battle scars proudly and wielded its imperfections towards its uniqueness, there was not a blemish on the stone at Beauxbatons, and as they walked inside, it also became clear that there was no pot or pebble placed other than for perfection. Several gorgeous lady ghosts bid them welcome and ushered them down a small flight of steps and down a magnificently decorated hallway. There were candles floating everywhere; it was pleasantly warm, though it was a castle in October, as a warm breeze was constantly blowing through the castle. Pink and orange bats fluttered gracefully overhead, and there were great glass sculptures of terrifying Halloween creatures turned beautiful. If the staff at Beauxbatons were aiming to impress, they'd more than accomplished that goal. It was absolutely awe-inspiring.

"I take it you are Mademoiselle Raelle?" said Wilcox politely to the ghost leading their path.

The woman, a young, bright-eyed soul of about twenty, turned around and floated backwards in the air with crossed legs, nodding at Wilcox with a smile. "You may call me Essa, monsieur."

"Very well, Essa. Quite the marvelous reception that has been prepared? Tell me, is Magnus here yet?"

"Professor Vintervolff and the Durmstrang elect are already arrived."

"Ah, good! Sea travel is faster, but less comfortable. We opted to take our students on the slower and smoother route."

Essa gave Professor Desulgon a shy little wave and a wink; he waved back and blushed.

They were then led into a ridiculously overlarge hall, and Albus recognized Madame Maxime sitting in the front. (It was hard not to recognize her.) Below the staff table, there were five student tables, instead of four, and each student on the outer tables wore the same pale blue robes. It was hard for Albus to imagine a school without Houses.

The middle table had students in blood-red robes filling the left half. There were around five dozen of them, just like with Hogwarts. Their Headmaster—or the man who looked so regal that Albus could only assume he had to be the Headmaster—had dark brows with white hair which tapered into a triangular point on the back of his neck and hung down in sideburns in front of his ears, which were sharp, almost pointed. His cheekbones were prominent, and his chest was high and held proud. He looked over the crowd with a sort of watchfulness. Only a man this awesome could possibly be named "Magnus Vintervolff." Durmstrang's reputation for the Dark Arts had diminished over the years, and just from looking at this man it was clear that he was solely responsible. Albus knew that he had commanded the school since Karkaroff left.

The Hogwarts group settled in the right half of the table, and as Madame Maxime stood, every gaze was cast upon her.

"I know zat many of you are dying to eat," she said. "So, eat we shall. Enjoy ze feast—we 'ave provided your entairtainment. Please, enjoy, and we shall talk after."

She clapped her hands once; her gigantic hands made a boom that slightly rattled the chairs. As she clapped, just like at Hogwarts, the empty tables in front of them filled with food; very unlike at Hogwarts, curtains drew back on either side of the room, revealing two choirs of wood nymphs, which at once began to sing a most relaxing tune. It was the kind of tune which Albus would love to fall asleep to, but which did not make him feel tired simply by listening; it was enchanting.

Albus tried many exotic foods, which were not all to his liking, and many exotic desserts, which were all to his liking. As he ate, the two girls and boy closest to him on the other side struck up a conversation with Albus and his nearest friends.

"Vot a meal, huh," said the boy, stuffing his face.

"Do you know anything about any of the tasks?" asked one of the girls.

"Nah," said Lucas. "Do you?"

"Not a clue," said the other girl. "I am quite excited, however."

Their accent was difficult some of the time, but it was a bonding experience like no other, discussing the Triwizard Tournament with these students from an entirely different country.

At one point, Albus received a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around to see a pretty brunette staring at him. She asked him something in French which included his name.

"Hi—er—how do you know my name?" asked Albus.

"She's asking you if you're Albus Potter," called Louis from further down the table.

"Oh," said Albus, turning back to his new friend. "Yes. Er—_oui._"

The girl squeaked and turned away.

Albus grinned. He knew that a year ago, he'd have found that kind of attention annoying… but at the moment, it was just nice to be admired again.

After the food had completely disappeared—and not by magic, but by ravenous students—Madame Maxime stood again, just like Wilcox did whenever he was making announcements at Hogwarts. This time, however, when Madame Maxime stood, every single Beauxbatons student fell immediately one hundred percent silent in respect, and when the volume of the room dropped by eighty percent, the Durmstrang and Hogwarts students picked up quickly and stopped talking as well. Not a clink of silverware could be heard throughout the room. Madame Maxime cleared her throat and began her announcement.

"We 'ave been working vairy 'ard," began Madame Maxime, "to reconstruct ze Triwizard Tournament. We 'ave been working vairy 'ard to ensure safety and success. Zis ees ze time when ze fruits of our labor will ripen.

"Ze Triwizard Tournament was a time when our three schools would come together and become one entity for a time. Eet reminds us zat, zough our schools may be separate, all of our students are bruzzers and sisters. We will cheer for our 'ome schools, but we all must enjoy ze game, _oui?_"

"_Oui,_" chimed the audience.

Madame Maxime smiled warmly. "Ze selection of ze champions will take place tomorrow, at zis time," she said. "You 'ave until zen to submit your name to ze Grail of Lightning."

She raised her wand.

A bright red light burst from the center of the Hogwarts and Durmstrang table, flooding the room. From the source, a ripple appeared in the table, spreading outwards as if it were the surface of a lake onto which a stone had just been thrown. More ripples began to spread, and then, slowly, a large, copper cup rose from the wood of the table, slowly hovering upwards until it was hovering about a foot above the table; then the illumination was gone and the cup clattered back onto the table noisily.

A flash of red burst from the inside of the grail, and then it began to crackle with electricity. Red sparks leapt from one side of the cup's rim to the other, like miniature discolored lightning bolts.

"As of now," said Madame Maxime dramatically, "ze Triwizard Tournament… 'as officially… _begun_."

O

The Hogwarts and Durmstrang student slept in the castle. Two guest halls had been prepared for them, large enough to fit everyone comfortably. Their pillows were the softest that Albus had ever rested his head on, and the blankets seemed like silk. Beauxbatons was again proving that it would spare no expense, even when their guests were asleep.

When classes began the next day, the students were split up by year again. Albus, his six fellow Hogwarts third years, and seven boys and girls from Durmstrang all joined a third year Beauxbatons class, which appeared to be Transfiguration. Their teacher was a middle-aged woman who had nothing on Professor Desulgon. Transfiguration appeared to be a subject that the Beauxbatons students dreaded, because their smiles were clearly forced so as to make the foreigners feel welcome.

The lessons were in French, so Albus didn't pick up much on the theory. It was, however, instantly obvious that the Beauxbatons students were learning complex vertebrate Transfiguration, something that Professor Desulgon had said they would be learning very soon. There weren't too many differences in the material or the class structure—Albus had been expecting something completely alien in a different school. Maybe this was why Wilcox wanted to take some students from each year—to show that everyone is not so different after all.

Most of the class seemed to be struggling, and their teacher looked distressed. Beauxbatons had shown off so much for Hogwarts; these students were probably instructed to impress their counterparts by performing difficult magic in their classes, and their teacher was nervous that her students wouldn't be able to dazzle.

Then, her expression brightened instantly.

"_Observez Janelle!_" she exclaimed to the class, pointing.

French like _that,_ Albus could understand. She was telling the class to look at "Janelle." Albus turned to where the teacher was pointing.

There was an absolutely _drop-dead gorgeous_ girl standing in the corner of the room, scratching behind the ears of a large tiger which she had just Transfigured from the bookshelf she had been given. The tiger looked dazed and unaware, but no one could perfectly form a living animal through Transfiguration. Janelle looked up at the class and smiled softly with half-lidded eyes the same intense color as her light blue robes. Albus would have suspected that she was part-Veela, since he couldn't take his eyes off of her, except that her hair was jet-black. Was that possible for part-Veela humans?

Without warning, Lucas crossed the room quickly and began to converse with her in fluent French.

Albus rapidly inflated and was about to hex the back of Lucas's head off before he realized he probably still couldn't perform those hexes. His fists curled up, itching to be used more than his wands, but Holly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concernedly. "Your face is all red."

"I'm fine," said Albus quietly. He glanced up out of the corner of his eye to see Janelle giggling with Lucas, and he felt very not fine.

Janelle's gaze drifted over to Albus and focused in on his eyes momentarily. She raised an eyebrow—perhaps identifying him from his resemblance to Harry Potter as did the girl at dinner the previous night—and turned back to her discussion with Lucas.

She then asked Lucas a question that included the word "Potter." Lucas turned around a bit begrudgingly and nodded. Janelle turned to her teacher excitedly and began saying something very fast which also included "Potter."

Their teacher turned to Albus excitedly. "Albus Potter?" she said; Albus nodded and blushed. "Oh, my boy, 'ow excellent eet ees to meet you! Would you mind vairy much to geeve us a demonstration of what you 'ave learned een _your_ Transformation classes?"

Lucas smirked mischievously—had he said something about Albus's "talent," knowing that Albus would be called to perform magic for the class and fail miserably?

"Um… I don't think I can," said Albus.

"Nonsense, do not be modest! As ze son of 'Arry Potter, evidently you are—"

"No, I mean, I'm having a bit of a problem recently," said Albus, heating up past the approximate temperature of the sun's core. His collar was probably belching steamed sweat at this point. "I…"

He decided to go with Madam Birchbaum's and Professor Desulgon's explanation.

"I'm dealing with a bit of an emotional block in my magic," he said. "Magical post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Oh," said the teacher, looking very apologetic. "I am sorry to 'ear that; may you get well soon. Would somebody else like to show us what you 'ave learned at 'Ogwarts?"

"I'd be happy to," said Lucas smugly.

Albus boiled over fresh.

"Ah, _merci._ Your name is?"

"Lucas Lotor, _je vous en prie_," replied Lucas. The teacher grinned and clapped her hands together excitedly at his French.

"Lucas doesn't know what we learn at Hogwarts," muttered Albus as Lucas turned one of the bookshelves into a large golden retriever.

As all of the Beauxbatons students flocked around the very happy and very lively dog to admire it, Lucas gave Albus a mocking shrug.

O

Despite only having been at Hogwarts for a few weeks, Lucas continued to show off for the Beauxbatons classes throughout the entire day. It was utterly infuriating. It was even worse when he was doing it for Janelle, even though Albus knew he shouldn't think like that, because Holly was very pretty and he liked her. At least Lucas wasn't trying to brag to Holly about how smart he was. Albus wondered how he might go about informing Janelle that Lucas was a shallow, worthless git.

The day was shorter than a Hogwarts day. Albus got the feeling that more studying was done outside of the classroom, and less done inside, at Beauxbatons than at Hogwarts. Whatever the case, it was nice to have a shorter day, as they were allowed to explore the grounds for a few hours before dinner arrived—the moment they'd all been waiting for. After several courses of food that was just as spectacularly delicious as the night before, the Grail of Lightning began to sizzle and glow a deep red. Madame Maxime stood as the plates disappeared for the last time.

"I zink zat ze Grail 'as chosen," said Madame Maxime. The accent would have been hilarious if the mood wasn't so tense.

Albus glanced over to Molly, whose knuckles were white as she bunched up her robe in her fists. She hardly seemed to be breathing.

Suddenly, and so violently that most of the students near the cup almost toppled backwards in their chairs, a bolt of red lightning shot up to the ceiling with a blast of thunder so loud that it echoed across the room for a full ten seconds; the lightning, however, faded in an instant, leaving behind only lines on Albus's vision and a piece of parchment which fluttered gently to the floor.

Madame Maxime waved her wand again, and the parchment zoomed towards her. She caught it and read it over several times before she broke the silence.

"Ze Durmstrang champion ees—_Caspar Engodska!_"

The name sounded familiar, but very vaguely. Albus looked down the table to the older Durmstrang students. A very handsome boy with bright blond hair had stood, and was receiving many handshakes from his fellow students. He tipped his blood-red hat to Madame Maxime and then sat back down again, folding his arms and legs and looking quite satisfied.

From the Grail burst forth another red bolt, which stretched to the ceiling again, releasing a second slip of parchment. As Madame Maxime caught it, there was a crackle of static electricity on her fingertips, but she didn't flinch. She stared at the paper, and Albus gripped his seat.

"Ze 'Ogwarts champion ees—"

_Molly! Molly! MOLLY!_

"—_Rona Kendrace!_"

Albus deflated, and so did all of his cousins down the table. Molly, however, hid any feelings she may or may not have had, and clapped graciously for Rona, a nerdy-looking Ravenclaw seventh year. Rona certainly didn't seem the type to pull off any amazing feats of athleticism; Albus prayed that she was _really_ good with magic. But she must have been, or the Grail would not have chosen her. Still, he had a hard time believing that she was better than Molly.

Madame Maxime had caught the final paper, and checked the name, smiling.

"Ze Beauxbatons champion ees—_Donna Lombard!_"

A Beauxbatons girl with jet-black hair jumped up and shrieked with joy. Albus leaned over the table to get a better look at her as there was thunderous applause from the school and her friends started jumping around with her.

Unexpectedly, Janelle, the gorgeous third year girl whom Albus had seen in class, leapt out of her seat and dashed for Donna, embracing her in a half hug and half tackle which spun Donna around in a circle with its force. The older student laughed and shook Janelle by the shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of her head, and they hugged again.

"Janelle told me her sister was submitting her name for Beauxbatons," said Lucas.

Albus couldn't take his eyes off of Janelle until Holly started waving her hand in front of his face.

"Congratulations to Caspar Engodska, Rona Kendrace, and Donna Lombard. Please accompany Mademoiselle Vacher to ze rear chamber of zis 'all to receive furzer information regarding ze nature of your selection. Ze first task of ze Triwizard Tournament will be 'eld on Novembair ze twenty-ninth. No champion will be informed of ze specifics until ze day of ze trial. We look forward to seeing you in one month for ze first task. Good night to all, and may zis tournament be ze first of many successful ventures for our schools in ze new era!"

Albus considered this. He really had lived through a shift to a new era—the global revelation had marked some major changes, as an understatement.

Very disappointed that Molly was not selected, and very tired due to the fact that he was very full, he exited with the rest of the Hogwarts crew to return to the Subterrestrial Express; having witnessed the selection of the champions, it was time to return to their own school.

The two hour journey back to Hogwarts was spent mostly in slumber by the majority of the students, and when the Subterrestrial Express finally parked and they were allowed to disembark, it took a great amount of effort for Albus to pull himself out of his seat and drag himself up to Gryffindor Tower one lazy step at a time. He didn't even have the energy to be rude to Lucas.

As he entered the third year dormitory, he didn't even bother to get into his sleepwear. He simply collapsed on his bed and let his exhaustion take him.

O

"ALBUS! _WAKE UP!_"

Albus jumped out of his skin at the shout. He looked to the window—it wasn't light out—but there was light in the room, and that light was flickering, and he smelled smoke.

Lucas was quickest to react. "_Aguamenti!_" he announced, and water poured from his wand, smothering the fire but completely drenching all of Albus's gear, as the fire was coming from his luggage.

"What did you do that for?" bellowed Albus, pointing his wand at Lucas; he was surprised to discover at this point that his wand was in his hand.

"I was putting out the fire," said Lucas simply.

"You ruined all of my stuff on purpose!"

"Your stuff was _on fire,_ I'm pretty sure that'd've ruined it more!"

"How did it get on fire?" asked Exo sleepily, staring at the black top of Albus's rucksack.

"I don't know," said Albus.

"Your wand was in your hand, and fire was coming out of it in your sleep," said Jonah. "You must have fallen asleep with your wand in your hand. You're still in your clothes, too."

"I've never seen sleep magic before," remarked Toby.

Albus stared at the wand in his hand; it was still hot, as if its insides were on fire.

* * *

_**A question from anothersignalman: "Incidentally, a weak 'good' patronus is white smoke, a weak 'bad' patronus is black smoke. So what happens with a strong 'bad' patronus? Does it form an animal, and if so, the same as a good one? How does the patronus act?" Actually, I never thought about that. I did some research on the Patronus beforehand; I suggest reading the Harry Potter wiki page on Patronuses. I can't explain it all here but it's really cool. I came up with the black smoke from a bad memory by myself, though, and there's a reason for that. But I never thought about taking it a step further, and having a sort of "nega-Patronus," a black animal like the shadow of a happy Patronus memory, which happens when you cast the spell with a bad memory. Thinking about it now, I realized, that is a REALLY cool idea and I am going to incorporate it into the story. I know exactly where I'll put it, there's a place where it fits really naturally into the storyline without any forcing at all, almost like I'd already planned it. (Unfortunately it's not until the sixth book, but we can look forward to that.) It's also a cool idea for a story on its own. If anybody wants to write (or has already written) about anything like that, let me know, I'd like to read it!**_

_**So yeah, leave a review, ask a question, get an answer. See you on Saturday for Chapter 7!**_


	7. Turning the Tables

_**IMPORTANT NOTE:**__** As a couple people noticed and pointed out to me, I totally brain-farted and put Lily in the Gryffindor common room in this chapter. Bear with it for a moment-I have to fix that and it'll be fixed fairly soon, but it might have that mistake in there for a while. Thank you to the people who notified me about that in their reviews. Definitely point it out if you see any mistakes like that in the future. Sorry about that!**_

* * *

_**Editing this morning took longer than I thought due to a decision I had to switch some things around last-minute. Sorry about the late upload. Enjoy!**_

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

TURNING THE TABLES

O

Albus was left pondering about the flaming trunk incident the entire weekend. Since when could he perform magic in his sleep? He was pretty sure that he hadn't been woken from a dream, so why would his unconscious mind have produced fire? And had he really fallen asleep with his wand in his hand? He didn't remember holding it when he fell asleep. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that his wand jumped into his hand by itself and started doing magic on its own, though he knew that was impossible.

Regardless, he made up his mind to write to Luna again.

He took up a quill and began to write down the thoughts that had been in the back of his mind since he arrived at Hogwarts. He explained how his wands had been misbehaving at about the same time that his magic was diminished, making sure to include the parts about the black smoke during Patronus practice and the fire in his rucksack early on Saturday morning.

As he walked up to the Owlery to send the letter, he encountered Holly, who had the same destination in mind.

"What've you got there?" she asked pleasantly.

"A letter to Luna Scamander," he replied. "About my wands. I really do think there's something wrong."

"Oh, yes, I heard about the fire," said Holly, wide-eyed.

"Yeah. I know it sounds weird, I know it's hard to believe, but… I really do think there's something wrong with my wands."

"I guess you'd know best," said Holly, shrugging.

"What're you sending?"

"Note to my parents. I told them I'd write about the trip to Beauxbatons."

They walked in step for a while, until when they were almost at the Owlery, Holly spoke up again.

"Weird though, how it's happening to Lily too, isn't it?"

"How what's happening?"

"The magic-block-thing," explained Holly. "I've never heard of anything like that, and now it's happening to Lily, too."

"I'm pretty sure it's different," said Albus. "Lily's not doing well in _any_ of her classes. I'm still good in the ones that don't require wands…"

"Have you talked to her?"

"Not yet," said Albus honestly, guilt tossing his stomach around.

"Well, you _should,_" said Holly, looking down at him although she was almost a head shorter.

Albus sighed, trying to understand why he hadn't seen his sister at all this year. James had told Albus to stay out of the problem, though.

No, that wasn't true. James hadn't _forbidden_ him to talk to Lily, he had just pointed out that Albus had his own problems to worry about. That just meant that it was up to Albus to decide whether or not he should see Lily. And it was his duty as a sibling—the duties he had been shirking—to see to it that Lily was okay.

He barely even noticed the fact that he was already in the Owlery and had already sent his letter using Alec's owl Peffy; he was so lost in thought that he was performing tasks unconsciously.

And then, as he emerged from his thoughts, he turned just in time to see the setting sun strike Holly at an angle that caused her hair to glow like it was on fire.

"HollydoyouwanttogotoHogsmead ewithme?" he blurted instantly.

Holly turned and blinked. "What was that, Albus?"

"I… er. I said, er, d'you… want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" he asked, catching up to his thoughts; he had shouted that sentence unconsciously, too. "Next Saturday?" he added, although there was only one Hogsmeade trip in the next two months, so it was fairly obvious to which trip he was referring.

Holly was glowing, and not just from the sun. "I'd love to!" she exclaimed joyfully. She bounded over to Albus, hugged him, and then skipped out of the room.

O

"James!" called Albus after dinner on Monday.

James had been about to leave with Gavin, Marco, and Barry, but he stopped and turned around when he heard Albus's voice. He nodded to his friends, and they left without him.

"Al, good to see you," he said. "Have you seen Lily at all?"

"Not alone yet," said Albus. "Have you?"

James shook his head. "I did, but she didn't really want to talk to me about her problem. I don't know why. I'd been keeping up with her throughout the school year so far, but now she doesn't want to talk about the most important thing that's happening to her. I don't get it."

"You don't have any guesses at the cause of the problem?"

"Tabby's good at this stuff," said James, "and I think she made a good point. You have some sort of weird block and you start doing worse in your classes. Then Lily has some sort of weird block and she starts doing worse, too. It happens in the same term, and it happens to siblings, when it hasn't happened to anyone else that we can remember. The odds are so unlikely that it would happen this way randomly, so Tabby says it probably isn't random. She thinks that what's happening to you has to be connected to what's happening with Lily."

Albus considered this logic. "Wait, so…"

"If your problems both happened randomly, then it's incredibly unlikely that you and Lily would both have a blockage in your classes at the same time," recapitulated James. "So, because that's so unlikely, we have to assume that it _isn't_ random. Tabby reckons that _you_ ought to go talk to Lily."

"I was planning on it," said Albus.

"Good," said James. "The sooner, the better. Preferably tonight, if you can."

"I'm headed to my Diwand Spells class, but I'll try to catch her afterwards," said Albus, waving goodbye to his brother and charging to his class so that he wouldn't be late—not that Professor Dixon would notice if he walked in half an hour late. And the pace of the class was so slow that he doubted he would miss more than two or three words even if he _was_ half an hour late.

He did arrive on time, however, and Professor Dixon began talking right as Albus settled in his seat.

"Today," he wheezed, "we will… talk about… Iterations."

The bored class perked up slightly; they had been looking forward to Iterations for some time. This was the process that let both of the wands perform the same action simultaneously.

"Iterations are… more complex magic… than your average spell… but this is obvious… as it takes two wands. Please pair up… into pairs… of two. We will be practicing… with _Lumos._"

Professor Dixon held up both of his wands.

"_Lumos Itero!_"

Both of his wand tips lit simultaneously.

"You can imagine," he breathed, "why it might be… advantageous… for a wizard… to use two spells… simultaneously… rather than… to speak the incantation twice—"

The sentence fragment "to speak the incantation twice" seemed to have been too large for Professor Dixon to say in one breath, and he began coughing fiercely. Albus grimaced at his friends; they grimaced back.

"Are you all right, Professor?" asked Skye with concern.

"I am fine," choked Professor Dixon. "I will simply be… coming down with… a minor cold on Friday, that's all."

Puzzled looks were on the face of every student in the classroom.

"Where were we? Iterations… Yes, we will be working with… simple Iterations… this term and the next… and we will enter… the field of… complex Iterations… at some point next year. Complex Iterations… simply means… Iterations with… more complex spells… such as… _Expelliarmus_… but if you can master… an Iteration… with _Expelliarmus_… your attacks will be… incredibly difficult… to block effectively… if your adversary… brandishes only… a single wand… but you will… as always… tire faster…"

Listening to Professor Dixon speak was like watching Snailgrass grow. Albus nibbled on the end of his quill, engulfed in boredom, until Professor Dixon allowed them to attempt a simple Iteration on their own.

Albus held up his wands, wishing very much that Luna would write back so that he could see if the problem could be fixed anytime soon. "_Lumos Itero!_" he said.

After a lot of concentration and an incredible amount of willpower, his wands both began to glow, although somewhat weakly. The effects left him completely drained, though, and he didn't have the inner energy to try the spell again. He almost didn't have the strength to pull himself back up to the dormitory when class was over, and he fell right into his bed, exhausted, completely forgetting that he had intended to talk to Lily.

O

The Gryffindor hostilities against Albus seemed to have died down in the first two months, but Lucas still had the favor of most of Albus's old friends, who were likely only attaching themselves to Lucas because he was smart. Self-consciously, Albus wondered if the only reason that he had made so many friends was because _he_ was so smart, and now that he wasn't as good in class, they didn't see a reason to keep him around.

Albus couldn't worry about his own problems right now, though. He needed to look out for his little sister. He vowed to have a chat with her after his Wandless Magic class after feeling bad for having forgotten the previous day.

Wandless Magic was an exciting day. Up to this point, while working on elemental magic during double periods, the class had done nothing more than meditation exercises called "Kinetic Management" which were supposed to increase the flow of energy in one's body to make wandless magic easier, and indeed, all magic. Nothing, of course, made Albus's magic any easier, but he felt power flowing through him like never before when he was practicing his wandless fire magic. Today, though, they weren't doing relaxation techniques. They were going to be learning about Resonance, and how to shatter objects.

"I want everyone to watch me very carefully," said Professor Skower. "Watch what I do, and try to emulate it when you attempt Resonance training."

He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to the glass, and the glass disintegrated.

Professor Skower then exhaled and asked, "What exactly did I do?"

"You placed your hand to the glass and shattered it," said Ilia Kaska tentatively.

"Ugh, no," groaned Professor Skower. "Wasn't anyone _watching?_"

Albus disliked Professor Skower; despite how well he knew the material he was teaching, he was not the most effective teacher they'd had.

"I placed my thumb and index finger to the glass first, then the rest of my fingers," he explained as if to a four-year-old. "I never make contact with my palm. Then I took in a deep breath and held it. Make sense, everyone?"

The class nodded. It was always unclear whether Professor Skower sensed the irritated vibes given off by his students after he shot down one of their classmates like that.

"Now, here's what you do in your head," said Professor Skower. "You'll be only _checking_ the Resonance today—during our double period on Friday is when we'll try actually shattering small and fragile objects. You check the Resonance of an object by reading it almost like you would sense the texture with your fingers, or see the proportions or color with your eyes. It's another sense, this one imbued in your inner magical ability. Read the object by channeling some of your strength into the object and sensing the echoes. It's hard to explain in so many words, but since you all should have read chapters forty-eight through fifty-nine in your text for this week, you naturally will understand what I'm getting at. If you find yourself struggling today, you must certainly go back and actually read the chapters, since you were obviously either half-asleep or running on low brainpower when you read it the first time. Now, I've provided fragile objects. Release your inner magic into the object and let it flow around, then absorb it back into your body and do your best to discover what happens when you channel your energy into that object. We'll talk about what happened after thirty minutes. Get to it."

Albus was seated on a desk that had a small piece of sandstone resting upon it. He tried to remember what Professor Skower had done, and what had been described in the intensely tedious reading assignment, and placed his hand on the object in the same manner as Professor Skower's hand. He took a deep breath and thought about what he had learned so far in his classes.

Professor Skower knew that they had done some study on Resonance Training in Alternative Artifact Magic up to this point and was likely counting on them to draw on their knowledge from that class. What was it that Professor Pratley had taught them about Resonance?

_Resonance is the magical "shattering point" of an object; the amount and type of Kinesis you need to channel into an object to cause fractures._

One of the more difficult concepts for Albus to grasp was how his inner magical energy could have different "types." It just all seemed like… one big blob of magic. But apparently, this wasn't the case. The kind of energy which you needed to invoke for Transfiguration spells was concentrated more in the head, and that for curses was more from the gut. Random facts about the differing kinds of spells were whizzing through his head; he needed to focus on the sandstone, try and let it speak to him.

He felt a surge of power through his veins—blasting from his heart and whizzing through his bloodstream—he managed to stop it in his hands. The power he felt inside would probably have caused the rock to explode and would have resulted in injuries to a lot of people and mostly him. He felt so much power in his body, but he had a hard time controlling it, just like he had a hard time performing spells.

He channeled a little bit of his energy at a time into the sandstone, reading the echoes and trying to convince himself that he knew what they meant. _Shivers are a good sign… it means you're getting closer to the Resonance…_

He changed up the kind of energy he was feeding into his sandstone. The energy that had been surging through his veins was coming from his heart. He instead tried to focus a path of energy through his stomach. Through his training in meditation, he could almost feel the energy shifting directions, gliding through his lower torso before rising up to his arms and feeding out through his hands.

He tried channeling some magic through his head next. He rolled his eyes and silently considered the fact that, without constant instruction, it was impossible to tell whether he only _thought_ he was doing it right. He could just be imagining that he was feeling the energy run through his body correctly, and he might not actually be making progress at all. This part of the class was a little too theoretical for his tastes.

And then, when he tried to channel the energy a little lower, he began to shiver. His entire body started twitching uncontrollably, but he wasn't cold.

"Potter!" came a cry from the front. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it!"

So this _was_ what he was supposed to be doing.

Albus braced his hand against the sandstone and funneled all of his energy through a point just under his stomach. This was the tricky part—moderating how much energy he was pouring into the object. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried tightening and loosening his body, and then he felt more convulsions down his spine. He took one more deep breath, and twitched as he let loose a pulse of energy from his palm that felt oddly natural.

He opened his eyes to see a pile of sand on his desk.

"By Merlin, Potter, thirty points to Gryffindor!" cried Professor Skower. "I knew you had a lot of magic in you. Beautifully done."

"We're not _supposed_ to shatter the objects yet," griped Lucas.

"Oh, can it, Lotor," said Professor Skower. "Potter can't help it if he's better than you; now stop nagging and get back to your tree branch."

Albus suddenly liked Professor Skower much more than he had ten seconds ago.

"I DID IT!" yelped Junie Smith, bouncing up and down with a piece of ice in her hand and several other pieces scattered about her desk. "I GOT IT, I DID IT TOO!"

Professor Skower shuffled over.

"No, you didn't," he grunted. "You just held your block of ice in such a freaking death grip that it exploded."

O

Albus walked out of Wandless Magic exhausted but determined; he knew what he had to do immediately. There was a Potions essay due the next day after lunch, but he would start that after he talked with his sister. Hers was the more pressing issue. He had avoided her long enough; it was time to see what was going on, if he could.

He found Lily in the common room petting Gimmick, who was no longer a kitten but still fully believed himself to be such. Gimmick was curled up on her lap and they both sat in front of the fire; only one of them looked contented.

"Hey," said Albus, crossing over to the fire after making a wide circle around a game of Exploding Snap. "Hey. Lily?"

Lily turned around, and her eyes widened and filled with tears when she saw her brother approaching her.

"W-What's wrong?" stammered Albus, rushing over to her and patting her on the shoulders. Gimmick gave him a disapproving look and jumped down.

Lily shuddered. "Albus?"

"What? What is it?"

"I thought… I thought you…"

Albus paused to let her finish.

Lily's tears started to roll down in full. Other people began to stare, and Albus shot them annoyed looks.

"I thought you didn't like me anymore," she whispered.

"_What?_" blurted Albus. "What—Lily, that's ridiculous! You're my sister, I love you more than anything in the world! Why would you think that?" He bit his lip. "I'm sorry I haven't been seeing much of you this term, I'm really sorry—I've been busy and—"

He didn't get to finish; Lily jumped out of her chair and embraced him in a tight hug.

Albus patted her on the back awkwardly. What had he done to deserve this hug? And poor Lily—did she think that Albus wasn't keeping up with her because he hated her?

Or… did she think that Albus hated her because she was doing so well in her classes, and had stolen Professor Desulgon from him?

The grinding sounds of gears clinking into place began filling his head. Lily wasn't having a blockage like Albus—she was blocking herself from doing well so that her brother wouldn't hate her anymore. He felt absolutely terrible.

He looked back at the chair to see that it was now occupied by Riley Andersen, who was chewing some Bertie Bott's beans and not caring at all about the scene directly next to the chair.

"What?" he said thickly. "She left the chair and it's a good chair."

Albus cocked his head to one side, and the fireplace burst out several hot embers which landed right on Riley's sensitive areas; he leapt from the chair like he'd been Disarmed from it, and sprinted, howling, down to the third years' dormitory.

O

After that incident, Riley became more liable to try and curse Albus from behind pillars and from the staircases above, but at least one problem was solved: Lily was doing much better in her classes after Albus had given her a stern talking-to.

James and Tabby were immensely relieved by Lily's renewed success.

"Oh, thank Merlin," laughed James. "I thought that I was going to be the next one to catch Potteritis."

"Potterosis?" suggested Tabby. "Sorry, Albus—not to make fun of your problem," she added quickly.

Now that Lily was all sorted out, Albus had to sort himself out—he still needed to figure out his Transfiguration assignment of turning tables into horses, which would be tested in class on Friday. He felt he would never be able to grasp the complexity of the magic in his current condition, but he couldn't let Professor Desulgon down—he still had to try, and do the best that he could on the examination, no matter how pitiful.

Since Lucas, his Transfiguration partner, was out of the question to ask for help, Albus ended up going to Alec, who found it greatly amusing that now, Albus was seeking _his_ help.

"The student has become the master!" declared Alec triumphantly, waving his wand in the air as they entered an empty classroom for practice.

"Yes, yes, the tables have turned," sighed Albus. "I get it."

"Well, the tables _haven't_ turned yet," noted Alec. "We have to turn the tables; that's what this assignment is all about!"

Albus laughed; he hadn't thought about that. "Okay, good point. Anyway… I'm so far behind in this turning-inanimate-objects-into-complex-vertebrate stuff, because I can't even do the stuff we did two years ago, so I don't really know… What do you do when you're trying to do this assignment?"

"You have to kind of pretend that the table is already a horse," said Alec. "Because really, everything is already everything else; we're all made of the same stuff. You just have to remind the table that it's already a horse and then… _Conviso Verto!_"

Alec's table at once transformed into a majestic, very lifelike horse. Albus knew he'd come to the right person.

Still, though, Alec's explanation was odd, to say the least. He had to pretend that his table was already a horse…

He stared at his table.

_You are a horse, table._

He tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this thought, and he raised his wand, clearing his throat.

"_Conviso Verto!_"

The table grew a shaking tail.

"That's not bad, considering," said Alec helpfully.

Another hour passed while Alec gave instruction on how Albus could improve, but Albus never got more than a leg and a half to go with the tail. It was, as always, immensely frustrating.

Alec turned the horse back into its starting point as a table again and said, "One more time. Come on, Albus, I know you can do this!"

Albus tried again; this time, the result was three full legs which started pawing the ground.

"Hey, that's much better!" exclaimed Alec, while Albus managed a weak smile. "You do that tomorrow, Professor Desulgon will be impressed, considering how hard it's been for you these past months and how much you've overcome!"

Alec was a fine teacher. He might make an excellent Transfiguration teacher someday. At least, he was infinitely better than Lucas.

"Let's practice again tomorrow," said Alec, and Albus nodded.

He was sick of underperforming. It was about time for him to get over this block.

O

At breakfast on Saturday, Albus glanced up eagerly at the ceiling. Luna had not yet written back, and it had been a week at this point. Searching the crowd of owls overhead, he found Peffy instantly and his mood lifted, despite the fact that his mood was already very high because today was the day he was going to Hogsmeade with Holly.

He took the letter from Peffy's leg when the crazy-looking snowy owl landed, and he opened it rapidly to see what Luna had written.

"New Zealand?" he muttered as he was reading. "Holy… That's really far! I'm sorry, Peffy, I had no idea that you had to go that far! I'll get you some Owl Treats the next time I can."

Peffy understood and nuzzled his beak against Albus's arm; then he twitched and took off.

"About time," called Alec from the Ravenclaw table. "Peffy's been gone a week! Who were you writing to?"

Albus turned his attention to the letter again before he answered; he had to know what it said immediately.

_Hi, Albus,_

_I'm so sorry to hear about the block you've been having. I have to agree with your parents and your teachers, though. I've never in all of my years heard of a person's magical skill deteriorating after the purchase of a second wand, and I've studied wandlore a lot._

_Unfortunately, I'm not in the shop right now; I'm staying in Moutohora in New Zealand with Damien Tashra, Captain of the Moutohora Macaws Quidditch team. (Would you like me to get his autograph for you?) The island is mostly a wildlife reserve and I've come to study some of the fascinating creatures that live here, and experiment to see if any new powerful wand cores might come from these exotic creatures; if the parts can be retrieved humanely, of course._

_Speaking of wand cores, your core of Devil's Snare tendril in your first wand has intrigued me for a while. All the same, though I do honestly believe you when you say that you think it's your wands, and though your first wand is experimental and thus likely to behave in ways we've never seen… your second wand is normal, and if it is having the same difficulties, then I think that it is safe to say that your wands are not the problem here. I know you probably don't like to hear that—heaven knows I would love to instantly fix your problem if I could—but to say that your wands are misbehaving is to say that you have a perfectly normal wand that has, for the first time in history, rejected the owner which it has chosen within the first _days_ of its selection, and that your other wand (with which you seemed to have bonded so well) rejected you at precisely the same time. This just doesn't happen; it would be astronomically unlikely. We are forced to accept the far more likely explanation that something is happening inside you and not your wands._

_But. I have been wrong before, and I will never risk your talents in favor of my certainties, no matter how certain they may be. If nothing has improved since you've written, feel free therefore to send me a response in which you enclose your wands. I will take some time to examine them and determine if there is some sort of a discernible problem. If you do this, you would have to borrow your friends' wands in the meantime. But your magic may be even worse if the wand you have to use has not bonded with you and has not been taken by force from its owner, so be warned. If you choose to take this course of action, then you should practice with your friends' wands for some time beforehand so you know how your performance would be further adversely affected; I highly recommend that._

_Only do this if you are running out of other options; if the problem is not your wands, then you need to spend as much time with those wands as possible, because you and your wands share a bond; you need to overcome trials like this together in order to properly grow. I hope everything is straightened out soon._

_-Luna_

Albus's mood brightened instantly. Yes, there was still a problem with his wands! He had only been able to get three legs and a tail to his horse in Transfiguration; he'd definitely say that nothing had improved since he'd written. All he had to do was use his friends' wands for a while to see if it was too difficult, before he sent over his own wands to Luna.

He turned to Alec. "Luna Scamander is willing to give my wands a look-over!" he said excitedly.

"Oh, hey, that's great!" said Alec. "At least she's not just like all the other adults who instantly assume that you can't be right when you tell them it's your wands."

"Well, she does assume that," admitted Albus, looking back at the letter. "But she says that she can't risk being wrong, so if I send her my wands, she'll take a look anyway."

"That's as good as you'll get, I suppose," said Alec with a shrug. "So, you going to send them now?"

"No, because I'll have to borrow other people's wands while mine are gone," said Albus, "so Luna says I have to practice with my friends' wands while I still have mine, just in case I determine that I really can't go without my wands for a couple of weeks."

"Hey, no big deal, you can borrow mine for Transfiguration," said Alec. "Or you can borrow Holly's holly. I guess you could test to see which one you like better."

"Thanks," said Albus, "but I think I'll actually see if Exo would let me borrow his… I'd rather use a Gryffindor wand because they're in all of my classes, you know, so there's no constant switching. I'll probably need to use the other wand consistently."

"All right, if you say so," said Alec. "I gotta go find Mia; I'm taking her to Hogsmeade."

"And I gotta find Holly," said Albus.

Alec shot him an extremely excited wide-mouthed smile before he left.

Albus walked around to the other side of the Ravenclaw table and tapped Holly on the shoulder. She looked up sweetly as most of the Hall began to get up to leave.

"Shall we go?" he asked, and she promptly lifted herself up and took his hand.

O

It was more awkward than he'd expected. For some reason, he could never look her right in the eye for too long. He also felt terrible about how much he had been drawn to that beautiful girl Janelle at Beauxbatons, and found himself thinking about her when he clearly should have been thinking about Holly. When they went to the Three Broomsticks to try butterbeer, he almost tripped over all of the people inside, but tried very hard not to embarrass himself by doing anything stupid like falling down. He tried so hard not to fall down that he almost walked right past an open table, and then smacked himself in the forehead when he forgot to pull out Holly's chair so that she could sit—that was the gentlemanlike thing to do! Why was he forgetting all of his manners?

The butterbeer, however, made him forget all of his mistakes. It was warm and delicious, heating every single part of his body instantly; it was well worth the six Sickles he'd spent for his and Holly's.

But then, when they sat down in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop for a calm cup of tea and found themselves amidst all the kissing teenagers, it was very hard not to turn redder than the jet of a Stunning spell.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else for tea next time," whispered Holly as a couple behind her, which was only using one chair, toppled over backwards and struck her in the back of the head. She winced and sighed.

Albus thought about Patronuses, and Alec and Aidan telling him to kiss her, and he leaned in closer to her. Holly's smile hitched a little higher, and she stared up at him with those adorable little eyes, and he hoped he wouldn't screw it up—

But right as he was about to go in for the kiss, something caught his eye that he simply could not ignore.

Two of Madam Puddifoot's other customers were Lucas—and _Roxanne_. Sitting at the same table, and making eyes at one another.

Horrified, Albus leapt to his feet and stormed across the room, leaving Holly utterly bewildered in her seat.

"_What're you doing?_" he shouted at Lucas as soon as he was close enough.

Lucas whipped around and, when he saw Albus, groaned in exasperation. "What _now?_" he huffed. "I know you're jealous of me in class, but jealous of my _date?_ Really?"

"I'm not jealous of your _date,_ that's my _cousin!_" seethed Albus.

Lucas glanced over at Roxanne.

"I didn't mention it because you guys seemed to kind of despise each other," said Roxanne, shooting a nasty glare at the both of them.

"And I guess you didn't bother mentioning to her what a slimy git you are?" barked Albus.

Lucas recoiled a bit, and then asserted himself back. "At least I can get a table past three legs and a tail in Transfiguration!"

Roxanne slammed her chair to the ground and stormed out of the shop.

"_Now_ look what you've done!" wailed Lucas. "We were just about to kiss, too!"

"DON'T YOU—EVER—KISS MY COUSIN!" roared Albus, and now the entire shop was watching. Holly was sinking further and further under the table.

"I'll kiss whomever I damn well please," hissed Lucas, "and if you could just let me have an afternoon to myself without screwing up life just like you screw up in class, Pot-head, I'd really appreciate it."

He got up to go chase after Roxanne; Albus pursued him outside of the shop and grabbed his wrist.

"I _said,_ you're not allowed to date my cousin," snarled Albus, "and I meant it!"

"What're you going to do?" sneered Lucas. "Duel me?"

"YEAH!" erupted Albus. "_Yes, I will!_"

Lucas obviously hadn't been expecting Albus to accept the offer. He burst out into laughter.

"Really?" he chuckled. "You? Duel me? Fine; it'll only take a few seconds anyway. The trophy room at midnight."

"Wandless," said Albus with a smirk.

Lucas started, and Albus saw his confidence start to fade.

"Come again?"

"Wandless duel," repeated Albus. "You challenged me and you chose the time and place. I get to choose the weapons. And I choose—no weapons. We duel with wandless magic only." He tilted his head. "Unless, of course, you're worried about screwing up wandless magic just like you screw up in life."

Albus could sense Lucas determining whether it was rational to accept this offer. But although Lucas clearly knew that he was outmatched in wandless magic, his ego and anger clearly got the better of him. "You're on," he spat. "I'll take you down. Wandless magic or not, I'm better than you at everything, Potter."

"Good," said Albus. "I get to prove you wrong in a way you can't deny."

He turned and walked away, all the way back to the castle, a toothy grin on his face the entire time. Finally—_finally!_—here was his chance to turn the tables on Lucas. He'd been able to get Lucas so angry that the git had agreed to duel in the area of magic Albus knew he could beat anyone. Lucas probably thought they weren't going to do much apart from sitting there and staring at each other, trying to make something happen. What a fiery surprise he was in for. The power surging through Albus's veins had never felt more ready.

As he popped back into the Great Hall just in time for lunch, he suddenly flashed back to Madam Puddifoot's… and realized that he'd left Holly alone in the shop.

He collapsed into a chair and smashed his head against the table so hard that he left a bruise. It smarted for the rest of the afternoon.

O

Albus borrowed the Invisibility Cloak from James again and carried it down with him to the trophy room that night, smiling the whole way. Here it was. His big moment. His time to shine, and Lucas's time to burn.

He entered the trophy room, always unlocked, and stuffed the Cloak into his bag, staying in wait. It had just turned to midnight, and Lucas was already late. The stupid blond. Then again, Albus hadn't seen him leaving the common room. But it's not like he would have forgotten—if he chickened out, he and Albus would both know who was superior at that instant.

Albus stretched out his legs and started meditating a bit more, knowing that he had to keep himself loose if he wanted to take Lucas. It wasn't going to be easy, but he knew he could do it if he kept calm. He started to stretch.

"Where are you? Come out here!"

It wasn't Lucas's voice.

It was the voice of the caretaker, Alpheus Boderight.

Heart instantly picking up speed, Albus leapt over to his bag. He plunged his hand in, rapidly sifting for that silk-like material, and ripped the Cloak out; he threw it over himself just as the door flew open and the light of a lantern flooded the trophy room.

He stayed perfectly still, concealing both himself and his bag with the Cloak, his eyes searching the room to make sure he hadn't left any signs of his presence.

The tip of his shoe was sticking out from under the Cloak.

He pulled it back under with an involuntary intake of breath, and the lantern started moving towards him.

He cursed Lucas under his breath—the bloody slimeball must have set him up. He'd get Lucas back for this—he'd make Lucas's life hell if he was caught—

The lantern stopped in the middle of the room. Boderight looked around.

Maybe he hadn't seen Albus…

And then Tippy, Boderight's little Pomeranian, bounded in after him.

Tippy would be able to smell him out.

It was only a matter of time… Albus prepared to bolt if necessary. Even if Tippy noticed that someone was here, and even if Albus was heard, they wouldn't be able to prove it was him…

Tippy began advancing straight towards him…

But then Gimmick bounded into the room and smacked Tippy right on the nose. Tippy whimpered once, looked at Albus, looked at Gimmick, and backed away.

Boderight looked down at Gimmick. "Hey!" he shouted at the cat that had assaulted his dog, but then the two began to play, and he rolled his eyes and walked back out.

Albus exhaled deeply and clutched at his heart. He sat up on his bag and stared at the opposite wall of the trophy room.

He should have seen it coming. Lucas wasn't going to play fair.

Well, if that was the case… then from now on, Albus wouldn't be playing fair, either.

* * *

_**Somebody asked what was the "theory" of spells that I often refer to; what is the "magical theory" that the teachers keep saying their students have to know in order to work a spell properly; why did Albus's wands "need less theory." This is what I mean: As you know, magic is not just pointing your wand at something and saying words. There are mindsets and energies you have to invoke (a little more about that was mentioned in this chapter, but it's kind of abstract and don't worry if you have no idea what it meant) in order to properly perform a spell. For a Patronus Charm, the theory is thinking of a happy memory and letting that memory fill you. For the Cruciatus Curse, the theory is that you have to mean it, you have to enjoy the pain you're inflicting (though they wouldn't teach that in school). Albus's wand is so well-constructed that he probably will be able to power through the spells without learning as much of this theory as his fellow students; it's rather like the fact that someone who is really naturally gifted at writing or math will be able to do their homework with much less practice than someone who is not. The wand, in this case, is like the brain in math and writing; some wands are more naturally gifted than others.**_

_**Have a good week, everyone!**_


	8. Land, Sea, and Sky

_**Sorry this wasn't a Saturday upload like usual, I was on a small getaway with my family from early Saturday morning to late Saturday night and I just decided to upload Sunday because I still needed to edit a bit. I never did say they would all be Saturday uploads... But I WILL try for Saturday every week when I can. So, yeah, I just realized that this is the third week in a row that I've updated later than usual. I'm not becoming apathetic or anything! It's not going to become a habit, I promise!**_

_**It's also come to my attention that this site has decided to try and improve my writing by inserting random letters in random places in my documents. I know that it's not me because people have pointed out to me two things-an S before the first word of a paragraph and a space in the middle of one word-and neither were in my Word version of the document, which had no editing in between uploading and posting. So if you find what looks like a random letter someplace, please message me about it or mention as part of your review so that I may fix it. Despite what my document manager has decided, I do not like having random letters inserted into my writing.**_

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHT

LAND, SEA, AND SKY

O

Holly had a hard time forgiving Albus for when he left her in Madam Puddifoot's, mostly due to the fact that he gone back to the castle and deserted her for the rest of the day. She'd waited in the shop most of the afternoon, as Albus heard.

Gryffindor was now last in the running for the House Cup by a large margin, because—as Albus was shocked to learn—Lucas had been caught outside after hours on the same night that Albus had almost been discovered. Evidently, Lucas had snuck out to watch Albus get caught, but had been found himself, as he wasn't the one with an Invisibility Cloak. Albus found this highly ironic and hilarious. Normally, he would have been upset over the fifty points lost from Gryffindor, but he felt that in this case, it was worth seeing Lucas go down in flames; his popularity decreased something awful after the incident. For some reason, Lucas appeared to blame Albus for this, and their relationship worsened, if that was possible.

At breakfast on the Monday before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, Albus received a letter he'd long been anticipating: Luna's second response. Albus had attempted to borrow one of Exo's wands and found very little difference in his performance; this prompted him to write back to Luna immediately and tell her that he'd like her to take a look at his wands.

As Cutch, Aidan's owl (Albus had borrowed Cutch instead of Alec's owl Peffy for this trip because it was a very long trip that he didn't want Peffy to have to take twice), sailed into the Hall, Albus stood to receive the letter. He was so eager that he'd already opened the letter before he'd sat back down. The only other thing he did before scanning the letter all the way through was to reach into his pocket and give Cutch a couple of Owl Treats for his good work in the journey.

_Albus,_

_Okay, that's odd, I'll admit. Even with your block, you still should have had more trouble with someone else's wand. It's also possible, though, that since Exorian uses his other wand more often, this wand is just happy to be put to more use and is performing well because it's in good spirits. Wands do have emotions like humans. They're not _as_ complex, but most of the emotions are there._

_I'm rambling about wands again. Sorry! It's what I do. Getting to the point, yes, you may send me your wands and I will do what I can to see if there's a problem. I should have them back to you before the Christmas holidays are over; these things take time if I want to do them properly, so I won't leave out any process that might identify an issue. If you're okay without your personal wands for a month, then send them over. I'll be waiting to hear from you._

_-Luna_

_P.S. I've also enclosed Damien Tashra's autograph, as you requested. Enjoy!_

O

That night, after Diwand Spells had concluded with another hour of barely any progress, Albus immediately packaged up his wands for delivery to New Zealand.

He tapped Rose on the shoulder; she looked up from her book, as she rarely did.

"Can I borrow Nika for a couple of weeks?" he asked his cousin. "I've got to send something to Luna Scamander in Moutohora."

"Moutohora, in New Zealand?" asked Rose. "Why's she there?"

"She's staying with Damien Tashra, captain of the Moutohora Macaws, while she studies the animals there. Look, I got Tashra's autograph!"

"Doesn't Tashra own the world's only current domesticated phoenix?" asked Rose in awe. "That's amazing. I wonder if that's where she gets some of her phoenix tail feathers."

"And Tashra is the world's longest-running Quidditch captain," said Albus. "He's fifty-three and he's still at his peak! Isn't that amazing? And I have his autograph! Did you see?"

"Sure, Albus, you can borrow Nika," said Rose, turning back to her book.

"Are you seriously not amazed by this autograph?" sputtered Albus indignantly.

"It's a bunch of lines on a strip of parchment."

"And those lines were written by one of the coolest guys on the planet!"

"That doesn't make it anything other than a bunch of lines on parchment."

Albus rolled his eyes and jogged up to the Owlery. Nika, Rose's owl, was black and white and stood out nicely; he coaxed her over with an Owl Treat and attached the package to her leg.

After Nika had disappeared into the distance, Albus thought of something that worried him. What if his wands didn't reach their destination—what if something happened to them on the way? Owls rarely ever failed their tasks, but, still… no matter how badly they were or weren't failing him, they were his first wands.

He looked at Exo's second wand, which he was still holding, and hoped that it wouldn't suddenly decide to hate him.

O

Neither Defense Against the Dark Arts nor Transfiguration the next day used magic. Albus had his first experience using Exo's wand exclusively when Charms rolled around on Wednesday.

"We will be learning the Freezing Charm today," squeaked Professor Plinky excitedly. "_Glacius._ A very handy spell for a number of applications."

Mia raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Moon?"

"What's the difference between _Glacius_ and _Kalazkos?_"

"Ah, very good question! Does anyone know the answer?"

Albus raised his hand, and as usual, so did Rose, Lucas, and Aidan.

Professor Plinky called on Albus—all of Albus's professors had shown preference to him in answering questions, because he wasn't able to demonstrate with the magic.

"_Kalazkos_ takes water from the user's surroundings and causes it to stick to the target and freeze," he answered. "Whereas _Glacius_ creates a blast of freezing air."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," applauded Professor Plinky.

"I could have," muttered Lucas under his breath.

"_Kalazkos_ is the Ice Charm," added Professor Plinky, "because it deals with actual ice. The two can be used interchangeably, except, _Kalazkos_ is better when the area's wetter. Remember that one. I made it rhyme so it's easier. Because _Kalazkos_ uses water from your surroundings, it's better used in wet places, and especially around a body of water. However, it's more difficult, which is why I'll be teaching that to you next year instead of this year. _Glacius_ is the Freezing Charm, and it blows gusts of ice-cold air, which is good for freezing the surface of water without freezing all of it; it's also widely used for putting out fires, normal or magical."

"Wish I had known that when my trunk caught fire," muttered Albus to Exo. "Then Lucas wouldn't have had to drench it."

"You won't be able to use _Kalazkos_ on fire most of the time because when there is a raging fire, there's usually no water in the air; it's very dry. _Glacius_ does not require water. But it _does_ deal with wind, and so this _is_ classified as an Elemental Spell, under the element of Sky. Remember that—it may or may not show up on Monday's examination."

They broke off into pairs to practice the spell. Exo, working with Albus, mastered the spell fairly quickly, giving his partner a lot of time to practice.

Screwing up his face in concentration, Albus concentrated as hard as he could on the spell. His intense efforts paid off only in a cool breeze—but it was still as good as most of the class, and considering that Charms was his weakest spell-casting subject, it was good enough for him.

"On Monday, you'll be having that major exam we were discussing," announced Professor Plinky right before they were dismissed. "Everything we've discussed this term. After the exam, your practical project will take up the month of December."

Professor Plinky was assigning them each a charm to teach the rest of the class. It would have been fun, if Albus could teach anything to himself.

As they filed out of the room to head down to dinner, they passed Roxanne. Lucas looked up at her pleasantly, waving, and she waved back.

"_Why,_" hissed Albus to Exo and Aidan, "_is she waving to him?_"

Aidan grimaced. "Er… as much as I'm neutral when it comes to Lucas, I can't really see him and Roxanne as a couple."

"I can't really see why you're still neutral when it comes to Lucas," said Albus, shaking his head.

"Well, I do think that chickening out of your duel and trying to get you caught was really awful of him," said Aidan. "Don't get me wrong on that one."

"Albus!"

Turning around, Albus saw Holly bounding toward him.

"Hi," he said as she stopped only when she was incredibly close to him. "What's up?"

"Lots of things are up," she said. "Charms is down, though."

Like Albus, Charms was Holly's worst subject.

"Want to study together tonight for the exam on Monday?" she asked hopefully as they walked into the Great Hall. "After A.R.M.?"

"Oh. I'm working with Alec on Transfiguration tonight. How about tomorrow?"

"That works, too!"

Holly hugged Albus, hummed delightedly like a Pygmy Puff and scurried off to the Ravenclaw table.

"You kiss her yet?" asked Aidan with a raised eyebrow.

"No," mumbled Albus.

Aidan groaned. "Come on, Albus! Why not?"

"Have _you_ kissed a girl yet?" asked Albus, glaring.

"No, I haven't. I'm waiting for the right girl."

"And I'm waiting for the right _time_," said Albus, folding his arms and stalking away to the Gryffindor table.

"What time is the right time is up to you!" called Aidan before Albus was out of earshot in the noisy Hall.

O

Aidan's words echoed in Albus's ears for the entire next day. As Charms progressed, and Albus made better progress on the Freezing Charm than any other spell he'd attempted this year, he wondered what time really _was_ the right time for something like this, assuming there actually was a right time.

"Albus, I'm very proud of you," said Professor Plinky quietly as he passed Albus. "You've made some phenomenal progress today. Keep up the good work."

Albus exited the classroom in a good mood, which was quickly lost when they passed Roxanne and Lucas yelled, "See you at Beauxbatons tomorrow, Roxy!"

A volcano erupted inside Albus's stomach; he felt like vomiting magma. During dinner, he kept a close eye on Lucas and Roxanne, checking that they weren't giving each other looks across the table. When dinner had concluded, he stormed over to his cousin.

"Why is Lucas calling you Roxy?" he demanded immediately. "You don't let _anybody_ call you Roxy!"

"I didn't _ask_ him to call me Roxy," she retorted. "And I'm going to ask him to stop. But Albus—you need to calm down. What is your _problem?_"

"My problem is that my cousin is going out with the most egotistical git ever to cross the Atlantic!" whispered Albus.

"I'm not _going out_ with him," said Roxanne. "That was a one-time thing. I wasn't really interested after our first date and I haven't seen him since, besides in the halls."

Albus brightened instantly. "Really?"

Roxanne huffed. "You know he was just playing to get on your nerves, right?"

"Oh," said Albus, realizing. "That makes a lot of sense."

"If you hate him so much, and he's only waving to me and calling me cutesy nicknames to make you angry, then maybe you shouldn't get angry."

"Maybe he shouldn't be such a wanker."

"Albus!" coughed Roxanne at this statement. "Where did you hear that word—do you even know what that means?!"

"_Yes,_" Albus lied defensively.

"Albus, you are honestly acting like a two-year-old," said Roxanne, a palm to the left side of her face. "Apart from your word choice, I mean."

"I am not!" shot Albus.

"And it doesn't take a _genius,_ Al, to realize this simple fact: when you're acting like a git to someone, you can hardly expect them to be anything other than a git back to you!"

"He started it!"

Roxanne laughed sharply. "Oh, you're not a two-year-old and you're playing the 'he started it' game? It doesn't matter who started it—the mature one is the one who ends it. And Albus, I'm not really interested in a second date with Lucas, but I am still FURIOUS with you for ruining my first—"

"But Lucas is—"

"I can decide for myself what he is and isn't without the help of my little cousin, I think!" she snapped back at him. "And you know what? You're going to apologize to Lucas as soon as you can or I'm _going_ to go on a second date and I'm going to snog him in front of the whole school. You hear me?"

Albus's jaw dropped. "Are you having me on_?_"

"I most certainly am not, I assure you," said Roxanne. "Grow up and apologize to him and I bet he'll apologize back."

"He will not!" protested Albus, trying to keep his head. "He'll laugh at me and—"

"I _think_ I know him better than you, Albus, seeing as how I _dated_ him," interjected Roxanne. "Have _you_ dated him, Albus? I know that he'll apologize too if you suck it up. So you're going to do just that—and I'll know if you haven't. If you don't apologize by this weekend then the whole world is going to see how much Albus Potter's cousin wants to snog Lucas Lotor."

She turned and left Albus standing awkwardly with his mouth open.

O

Holly smacked Albus's arm with the _Charming, Too_ book. "You're distracted today."

"Sorry," said Albus, trying to push out of his minds the two horrible options with which he had been presented by Roxanne.

"Do you want to study another day?" asked Holly. "It's getting pretty late."

"No, I can keep going," said Albus. "It's almost the weekend and I can sleep on the train ride to Beauxbatons."

"So how do you do the Freezing Charm?" she asked. "You said this was one of the ones you could get?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "I like the elemental spells." He cleared his throat and pointed his wand at the cup sitting on the table in the classroom which was empty except for them. "_Glacius._"

The cup frosted over and the temperature of the room dropped slightly. Albus grinned—that was his best spell all year.

"That was really good!" said Holly, clapping. Then she rubbed her arms. "Ooh, it's chilly now."

She leaned up against him.

Albus flushed, and now the room temperature seemed to have risen about a hundred degrees.

"I hope whatever's wrong with your magic is fixed soon," said Holly.

"Me too," sighed Albus.

"You've had to work through it for months now. I don't know if I could have kept going if this was happening to me. Just another reason you're the best student in our year."

Albus laughed. "You think so? Not Rose? Not Aidan?"

"The best," repeated Holly, looking up at him from his shoulder. She smiled, and her pale complexion flushed almost to the color of her freckles. "And… the cutest."

Albus laughed nervously but gave a genuine smile. "Er. Thank you."

Holly leaned upwards and placed her lips upon his.

His gaze widened and then his eyes fluttered shut by themselves. Holly stayed there for a moment, and he enjoyed the feeling, and then she leaned away again.

It had happened very quickly and very slowly at the same time. Was that a kiss? Was that all you did—just push your lips together and sit there until you had to breathe? Why was that so great?

Holly seemed to be in a completely different world as she twirled her hair around her finger, teetering back and forth and smiling strangely. She looked up at him from lidded eyes, and then she stood.

"We can study more this weekend," she said.

"Yeah," said Albus, standing up with her and grinning. "Study."

He gave himself a mental slap across the face and ordered his English to not come out in one-word sentences that sounded like propositions.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Holly, and she giggled lightly before running from the room.

Albus's heart was racing and he stared at the wand which was still in his hand. Maybe…?

He raised the wand, and conjuring up the memory from seconds earlier, shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

There was no reaction.

He'd expected it—it was an advanced charm and his magic was weak at the present. He'd have to practice with that memory and he stored it somewhere special in his brain, smiling all the way back up to the dormitory.

When he entered Gryffindor Tower, he found James sitting in a chair, holding a blank piece of parchment and raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Albus stared at the blank parchment for a moment before realizing what it was, and what James had probably seen him and Holly doing on it.

James then smiled broadly and gave him two thumbs up.

O

If James had guessed that Albus and Holly kissed in the empty classroom, he didn't mention it to anyone else, for which Albus was grateful. The last thing he needed was to be run through the rumor mill again.

Albus was in a bit of a daze for all of Friday morning. He felt light-headed when he looked at Holly, and she looked away shyly whenever he looked at her, but always with a satisfied little smile on her face.

His first kiss. It had been very quick, and he wasn't sure how it had registered. He made a mental note to have another kiss, properly this time, and see what it felt like. Maybe his second kiss would produce a better Patronus, too.

He slept all through the train ride to Beauxbatons, which came right after lunch—he needed to be awake and alert when they watched the task. It was going to be wild.

This time, when they disembarked from the train, there was someone rather unexpected accompanying Hagrid to receive them.

"Dad!" said Albus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he dashed to his father.

Lucas was star-struck to see Harry Potter among them, and he was clearly struggling not to show it. Albus enjoyed his temporary victory, and tried not to think about how he was going to have to apologize to the bighead in the near future.

"Here, Al, I'd like to have a word with you by myself," said Harry, directing Albus towards the carriages pulled by the magnificent winged horses. "About a few things. We can commandeer this carriage ourselves."

There were fifty of the carriages now, but some of them were smaller and pulled by smaller winged horses. Then again, there were a lot more Hogwarts people visiting Beauxbatons this time, because anyone with a Sickle who wanted to come watch the first task was permitted to do so. The Potters took one of the smaller carriages.

"So, Al," said Harry as he closed the door. "How are you? How've you been? How's your magic?"

"About the same since the last time I've written," answered Albus.

"Did you send your wands to Luna like you thought you were going to?"

Albus nodded.

"Okay," said Harry. "Whose wand are you using now?"

"Exo's," said Albus, brandishing the ivy wand.

"Is it working well?"

"It's working about as well, if not slightly better, than mine."

Harry tilted his head. "That's odd."

"That's what Luna said."

Harry nodded and continued to observe the wand.

"What brings you here?" asked Albus sleepily with a smile.

"I'm attending to watch over the tournament with some other Aurors," said Harry. "Or, at least, that was how I phrased the offer to Jovana. Jovana Ackseum, I mean, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She's overseeing our Ministry's duties in the Triwizard Tournament. Really, though, I just wanted to come watch."

Evaluating his father's expression, Albus suspected he was lying. His father had terrible memories from the last Triwizard Tournament—watching it was probably the thing he least wanted to do. Did he think something was going to happen? Was he attending for his kids?

"Know any secrets about the first task?" asked Albus eagerly.

Harry laughed. "Of course. You're going to get a very pleasant surprise when the champions come out into the arena."

Albus stared. "What?"

"I can't tell you," teased his father.

"You can't just tell me that and leave me hanging!"

"I just did," chuckled Harry. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you some other things."

"Okay."

"How's Lily doing? Is she still performing well?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "She hasn't relapsed or anything. She's a genius. Professor Desulgon keeps raving about her."

"Good," said Harry, sighing with relief. "You know, I was terrified when I heard that both of you had something going on. Okay. Did you ever find out what her problem was?"

"No," said Albus, protecting his little sister. Of course he knew what had made her upset, but he wasn't going to tell his father that if it made him look down on her.

"Well, maybe your problem will fix itself spontaneously like hers did," said Harry hopefully as the carriage took off into the air.

_I doubt it,_ thought Albus.

"And… oh, there was something else," said Harry, scratching his sideburns. "Oh! Of course. How are your A.R.M. classes?"

"They're really cool," said Albus. "I'm learning some amazing things in every single class! …Except Diwand Spells because our professor is, er, well… older than magic."

Harry laughed. "Oh, Yohn Dixon. I've heard that they call him 'Yawn' Dixon—" he mimed a yawn— "is that true?"

Albus laughed. "I hadn't heard that one."

"How's Exo?"

"He's doing better with his transformations! A lot better than last year."

Harry grimaced. "How much better?"

"Much, much better," said Albus. "It's remarkable, actually. He doesn't even have to miss his afternoon classes before the full moon or his morning classes after the full moon this term—what?"

Harry was looking extremely nervous to hear this good news.

"In young people, the werewolf condition is unstable," said Harry. "Some people are more unstable than others. The intensity of the transformation will wax and wane over a year's period, almost like the waxing and waning of the moon. The fact that Exo is doing so much better now than last year… means that the pendulum is going to swing the other way very soon, and he's going to have a really, really rough time next year or the year after. Keep a close eye on him. Make sure he's okay."

"I will," said Albus seriously. He'd been asked to watch out for Exo before, and he fancied himself the reason Exo was still alive today. He'd keep his friend safe and in good spirits if good health wasn't possible.

"The floating castle," laughed Harry, pointing out the window. "It really is a spectacle. Nobody from Beauxbatons ever tells anyone that the castle appears to be floating, because they want you to be utterly stunned when you see it for the first time."

"I _was_ utterly stunned," said Albus. "I guess it works."

They touched down on the ground and Harry opened the carriage door immediately.

"We're not late, but we haven't got much spare time," said Harry. "Come on, then."

Albus jumped out of the carriage and followed his father as they walked down to the bottom of the hill with the rest of the Hogwarts crowd. With the sloping hill invisible beneath their feet, it was very hard to walk, and many of the students were falling down.

It looked like nothing but rolling green hills for miles beyond the castle—it wasn't clear what their destination was. Albus looked around for some landmark that might signify where the first event of the Triwizard Tournament was being held, but he saw nothing except grass.

Then Harry stopped in his tracks, knelt down, and knocked a series of rhythms on the ground.

A trapdoor opened in the middle of the air, leading to a rock tunnel under the ground. Impressed, Albus climbed in first while Harry stood over the door, escorting people in.

Albus advanced through the short tunnel, which sloped far under the earth, and came to a large wooden door. Wilcox was right behind him, and when Albus stopped, Wilcox stepped ahead to open the door.

Albus gasped when the door opened—it was impossible not to gasp. In front of him was a gigantic underground arena, populated with thousands of fans in the stands, Beauxbatons students, Durmstrang students, and their families. The uneven, very rocky arena in the center was a curved triangular shape, and in the middle of each of the sides was a glowing mound of crystals, mostly silver but with three gold jewels at the top of each pile. The piles were higher than Albus would have been if standing on his father's shoulders.

Albus looked back for a moment to see Rona Kendrace duck away from their crowd through a small door to their right, and Molly Weasley followed with her opponent in the last two Dueling Tournament finals, Gabriella Garland. Why did Rona need Molly and Gabby?

There was a section of the stands which was almost empty, next to some of the Beauxbatons students, where Wilcox ushered the Hogwarts students. Harry appeared and took Albus down near the front, to one of the best seats. Hugo, Rose, Roxanne, Lucy, and Louis followed, and being related to Harry Potter, no one questioned them; however, Wilcox put an arm in front of Holly and the other third years, pushing them further up the stands and trying to quiet their protests. Lucas couldn't have looked more affronted.

Harry directed Albus into a seat right next to some of the Beauxbatons students, and then sat down on Albus's other side. Harry turned over and waved to some of the Beauxbatons students who were right in the front.

"Hello, Renee! Hi, Talia!"

Albus glanced over and recognized Renee and Talia Dupree, daughters of Aunt Fleur's sister Gabrielle and so cousins of his cousins. Renee was Albus's age, and Talia was Lily's. Louis, their first cousin, ran over and gave them both big hugs. He started conversing with them in French. Harry was looking around at the audience in much the same manner as he had during the Quidditch World Cup.

Then someone descended from the upper seating levels of the arena and settled herself right between Albus and Renee.

Apparently, Janelle Lombard, the gorgeous girl whom Albus had seen when he attended the Beauxbatons third year classes, was a friend of Renee's.

Janelle looked over and espied Harry, her eyebrows vaulting and her face generally showing that she was impressed. Then she looked over to Albus, and if she hadn't known that he was Harry Potter's son when she saw him in class, she did now. She gave him a little wave, and Albus's stomach waved itself back.

"_Bonjour,_" she said gently.

"Er. Hi," said Albus, his collar becoming a steam vent.

"Oh—it is all right. I speak English as well," she said without a hint of an accent.

"Wow," said Albus. "That's very impressive."

"My father is from Britain," she said. "I was raised learning both languages. But we live in France, so I attend Beauxbatons."

_That's too bad,_ thought Albus dizzily.

"Are you Harry Potter's son?"

"I am," said Albus, glad that she noticed.

"My name's Janelle Lombard," she said, extending her hand.

Albus took it. It was extremely soft.

"I'm Albus Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Albus," said Janelle. "Are you named after Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, and nice to meet you, too," said Albus, smiling nervously.

He couldn't stop looking at her for some reason—he was utterly spellbound.

"Are—Are you part-Veela?"

The instant he'd finished asking, he realized how compromising a sentence that really was. He had just flat-out told Janelle that he couldn't help but stare at her.

Janelle's light blue eyes widened dramatically and her mouth opened slightly as she dropped an embarrassed glance to the floor. Harry looked over with an amused smile teasing the corner of his mouth before he quickly looked away and immediately began a conversation with Louis.

"No," she whispered, "but, ah, thank you. Heheh."

If Albus heated up any further he suspected he'd melt, which wasn't exactly a bad thing because all he wanted to do was sink onto the ground at the moment.

He was quiet until the first task began after that. He kept glancing over at Janelle and found that she kept glancing back at him.

The only thing that distracted him from looking over at her was reminiscing on his kiss with Holly, but that quickly became difficult as he tried to stop his mind from inserting Janelle's face into that picture. Why was she so enchanting?

He was rescued from these persistent thoughts when an announcer took the center of the arena. She was a large woman who spoke rapid French for about two minutes while the Beauxbatons audience nodded, and then when she finished, she switched to English and spoke it just as well.

"Greetings to all, and welcome to the first New Triwizard Tournament! We are honored to welcome guests from Hogwarts and Durmstrang to join us in this great and noble tradition."

Harry twitched. Albus knew what he was thinking—it wasn't so great the last time.

"The Tournament was based on ancient rituals of the European wizarding community. Those of you who are familiar with the legends of the Natural Sprites, and even those of you who are not, will likely be familiar with the themes of land, sea, and sky that are prevalent in magical theory even to this day. While we have done away with the pagan sacrifices and celebrations, it cannot be denied that the three Natural Elements are of the highest magical nature. And so the three champions—each from a school representing one of the three Natural Elements—take part in three tasks based upon the three Natural Elements. Today's task, as suggested by our environment, is based upon the element of Land. The second task will based upon the element of Sky, and the third upon the element of Sea. Our champions have been informed of this, and of the requirements for today's task, but they had not been informed of the task itself until five minutes ago, when they were briefed in the waiting room.

"In today's task, consistent with the theme of the number three, each champion has been requested to construct a team of three by inviting two of their classmates to join them in the arena, for this task only."

Albus whipped around to face his father, remembering how Rona had brought two of her fellow seventh years to the waiting room.

"Is Molly going to be in the task?!" he shouted excitedly; Harry grinned.

"These teams of three are each to be given one of these piles of jewels at the start of the task," said the announcer, "and they have only one instruction. At the end of the task, the jewels will be counted, and the team with the most is the winning school for today. Winning in this task will aid the champion in the next task. The few rules are thus: incapacitating a member of an opponent team is allowed, so long as it is not through physical injury, and members of the same team as an incapacitated player may revive that player. If all three members of a team are incapacitated, the champion of that school will be revived by a supervisor and will reenter the fray—but they may find that their pile of jewels will have been diminished rather quickly. In addition, if a player remains incapacitated for more than one minute, they will be revived by the supervisor. Any jewels created or duplicated using magic will be worthless. The silver gems are each worth one point towards a player's total, and the golden gems are each worth fifty points."

She shouted out something in French again, and then switched back to English immediately.

"Now, allow me to introduce you to the champions and their task forces!

"From Beauxbatons: Donna Lombard, with her friends Melina Morvan and Claude Leblanc!"

The applause was deafening, as most of the crowd was allied with Beauxbatons. Donna stepped out, an older and more severe-looking version of her sister, who was beaming with pride. She had been very expressive after being selected from the Grail of Lightning, but now she looked all business. Melina, a lean and athletic-looking blonde, looked bored, and Claude, a muscular brunet, looked like he was pretending to be bored but was actually ready to Disapparate on the spot.

"From Hogwarts: Rona Kendrace, with her friends Molly Weasley and Gabriella Garland!"

Albus's part of the stands, which had a high percentage composition of Weasleys, cheered their heads off.

Janelle looked over interestedly as Albus was losing his head; he turned and sheepishly said, "That's my cousin—Molly Weasley."

"Oh—yes!" exclaimed Janelle. "Renee said that her cousins' cousin had been one of the delegates for the Triwizard Tournament but was not selected—this is her?"

"Yeah, that's Molly," said Albus, pointing at the bushy head of orange hair.

"And from Durmstrang: Caspar Engodska, Leon Waltz, and Ingrid Kerd!"

Caspar Engodska walked out, a dashing blond with a smug grin. He was followed by a heavy-set, formidable looking Durmstrang student who looked like he couldn't possibly have been young enough to be school age, and a girl who probably would have been very attractive if it wasn't for a layer of acne so thick that her face was almost obscured.

The atmosphere grew tense as each team of three took their position in front of a pile of gems. Out of all of the nine people on the floor, Molly looked the most relaxed and confident, as far as Albus could tell.

Then a burst of green sparks was let loose over the arena, and the task began.

It was even more fascinating to watch than Quidditch. Each of the people, not just the champions, had very specific styles of play. For example, Caspar Engodska, champion of Durmstrang, was proficient at getting around quickly because he shot tracks of ice all around the floor of the arena and skated around at high speeds while everyone else tried to keep themselves from slipping. Sometimes he would propel himself into the air and create slides of ice above the arena, dropping down from above onto his opponents' gem piles.

Donna Lombard was playing conservatively, taking a little at a time and making sure her pile was as defended as possible. When she did get into enemy territory, she did so by casting a very effective Disillusionment Charm on herself, which was also very useful for defense; nobody wanted to penetrate her defenses while they didn't know where she was.

Rona Kendrace was under the floor of the arena most of the time, destroying her opponents' footing and popping up in unexpected places while Molly and Gabriella, unparalleled duelists in their year, were easily able to vanquish any opponent when they weren't outnumbered. At one point, Caspar's entire team was taken down by Molly alone, one at a time, and Hogwarts gained a strong lead.

"What's going on?" cried Renee. "Donna's losing!"

Beauxbatons was down, and still playing very conservatively, which was very worrisome to most of the crowd. The end was looming; Molly was locked in a heated duel with an invisible Donna Lombard and pushing her back, and the Beauxbatons pile was quite obviously the smallest by a ridiculous margin. Rona's pile was the largest, and all nine of the golden gems still remained in their original piles.

Donna was suddenly blasted out of the way; the crowd gasped and Janelle moaned as Molly rocketed herself up to the top of the Beauxbatons pile and snatched away two of the three golden gems. Donna's teammates couldn't find her to revive her. Durmstrang broke through Rona and Gabriella's defenses and began pilfering from the pile, but it didn't matter when Molly burst under the ground to Rona's tunnels and popped back safely to Hogwarts's pile with over one hundred points' worth of gems. Renee was distraught, but Janelle, whose eyes flashed with inner calculation, didn't seem worried in the slightest; in fact, she seemed oddly self-assured.

Red sparks exploded over the field to signify the end of the bout, and Molly embraced her teammates and they cheered. Durmstrang looked to be in second, and Caspar looked displeased.

Madame Maxime, Professor Wilcox, and Professor Vintervolff walked onto the field. Each of them split off to their school's piles.

When Rona, Molly, and Gabriella walked up to Wilcox, chattering away and looking extremely pleased with themselves, Wilcox shook his head "no" and their smiles faded.

Wilcox waved his wand, and a sizeable portion of Hogwarts's pile disappeared—about a third of it, in fact—and so did about a quarter of Durmstrang's pile when Professor Vintervolff arrived.

"What—what happened?" asked Albus, totally in shock.

Janelle leaned back in her seat looking totally satisfied. "I saw Donna's plan," she said to Albus. "My sister was invisibly duplicating piles of the other teams so that they would think they were ahead. They did not bother with Beauxbatons because they thought that we were far behind! But copies of the gems are worthless!"

Albus slumped back in his seat. That… he had to admit… was _brilliant._ Beauxbatons certainly deserved to be in the lead after that bit of strategy.

And indeed, when the tallying was done, Beauxbatons was in the lead. Hogwarts was in second, but because of Molly's little stunt at the end, they had a bit of an advantage: The champions got to keep the golden gems, which contained clues for the next task. Hogwarts had five, Durmstrang had three, and Beauxbatons only had one.

Albus looked up to where Aidan, Holly, and the others were sitting, and was irked to see that Lucas was jogging down the stands to see Janelle.

"Hi, Janelle!" said Lucas. "Just wanted to say, good job to your sister. That was a really cool move she pulled to give Beauxbatons the lead. Catch you around—may the best woman win!"

He went back up to his original seat.

"That kid irritates me," said Janelle bluntly.

Albus liked her even more now.

"Sorry—is he your friend?" she asked, wincing a little.

"Not in the slightest!" said Albus, beaming.

"Oh, good," said Janelle, standing. "I am going to go say hi to my sister now. I got permission to go visit her in the waiting room before and after the task."

"Oh," said Albus, sad to see her go. "Okay. Er… see you around, maybe?"

Janelle looked like she was in deep thought for a moment.

"Would you like to come with me?"

Albus almost fell over backwards.

"I mean that, I would probably be able to get you into the waiting room, and your cousin is there, if you would like to see her," said Janelle.

"Er—yes, yeah, that would be great!" said Albus, turning to his father; Harry nodded at him, signifying that it was okay.

Janelle took his hand and lifted him up, dragging him along the rim of the stadium and then up an empty row of stairs to the door through which Rona had disappeared earlier with Molly and Gabriella.

Turning around, he saw that Louis was following them, looking all around apprehensively. He wondered vaguely whether Louis had permission to come, or if he was counting on the fact that his mother had been a former Beauxbatons Triwizard champion to coast him through the guard, but most of his thoughts were occupied with Janelle and he didn't dwell on it.

Madame Maxime appeared at the door shortly. She gave Louis a kiss on the top of the head and then escorted him in, then waved to Janelle after giving a wary eye to Albus. Wilcox and Professor Vintervolff appeared shortly after, deep in hushed conversation.

They entered the waiting room, where the scene was not exactly how Albus had pictured it. There were several Mediwizards in attendance, checking up on the players, who were not chatting and celebrating as Albus anticipated, but instead lying limp, face-down or on their backs gazing lifelessly at the ceiling, looking very much like they never wanted to move again. Thirty minutes of straight magical action would do that, he supposed.

"Albus," said Molly happily, looking over with as little effort as possible. "Louis! How good to see you two. Please don't hug me, though… I think I might be dying."

"You did great, Mol!" said Louis, air-hugging her slightly above the bed.

Louis then looked over at the Durmstrang group, and Caspar Engodska looked back: their gazes locked, and they both froze momentarily, eyeing each other with an unintelligible emotion. Had they met before?

Janelle waved Albus over to her sister's group. Albus gulped, feeling like it was almost a betrayal to his school to go hang out with the Beauxbatons trio, but walked over anyway.

"Donna, this is Albus Potter," said Janelle.

"I heard you're related to the famous Harry Potter," said Donna, extending her hand, "and to Fleur Delacour?"

"I'm Harry Potter's son, yeah, and Fleur is my aunt," said Albus, shaking her hand. "It's—nice to meet you!"

"It is an honor to meet _you,_" said Donna. "I have heard what Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour had done in the Triwizard Tournament, but more importantly, in the Second Wizarding War. I admire them greatly. Would you tell them I said hello?"

"I will," said Albus. "Aunt Fleur's son is over there, if you'd like to say—er—"

Louis was not where Albus was pointing; he was talking to Caspar over at the Durmstrang group.

"Does he know Caspar Engodska?" asked Donna.

"I don't know," said Albus. "He hasn't mentioned it, if he does."

Wilcox was also there, still conversing with Professor Vintervolff. None of the Hogwarts visitors were actually visiting the Hogwarts team; Rona, Molly, and Gabriella all looked fairly put out.

"So, Janelle tells me that you are very smart," said Donna, "since you were with the group of the best Hogwarts students who visited!"

"Er—I guess so," said Albus, blushing.

"And modest," added Janelle, winking.

Albus started to sweat as he glanced humbly down at the floor.

"There are far too few smart and modest men around," said Donna. "Stay that way, Albus Potter, you are a true gentleman. I see why my sister likes you."

"_Donna!_" exclaimed Janelle, her eye twitching, and then she began whisper-shouting at her sister in French.

Albus's mind exploded. And through all the images that suddenly burst forth in his mind—of him and Janelle going on a date, maybe he'd invite her to Hogsmeade, take her around Hogwarts, maybe he'd kiss her—one image stood prominently in the front of his thoughts, and that was the image in his mind of him kissing Holly. He was overloading and unable to think properly, and the only response he could come up with was to seize up on the spot, say "Er," and then "It was really nice seeing you" before turning and speed-walking out of the waiting room.

He was incredibly confused as he walked back to where the Hogwarts students were still sitting. Did he like Holly that much? What if he'd kissed Janelle—how would _that_ kiss have felt? Would it have been any different? Would it have been better? And how would he know whether it would have been better, since he hadn't done it? _Should_ he have done it? Now that he had kissed Holly, did that mean he couldn't kiss anyone else? Was he never allowed to think about kissing anyone else? Would Holly be mad if she'd found out that he had been thinking that he liked Janelle? He'd only known Janelle for all of an hour, how would he know anyway if he—

He looked up—he'd almost run straight into a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular man standing in the middle of the aisle in an empty section of the stands.

"Sorry," muttered Albus, stepping to the side to pass the man.

"That's all right," said the man, smiling down at him, stepping in front of Albus again.

Albus glanced up at the man, who had black eyes and thin black hair with gray streaks. "Er. Excuse me." He stepped to the other side.

The man stepped to the other side as well, blocking his path again.

"Aren't you Albus Potter?" he asked.

"I… am," said Albus, backing away slightly. "Er, who are you?"

"Call me Mask."

Albus stared, fear creeping into his veins for a reason he didn't entirely understand. He did understand this, though: This man's presence was unsettling.

"Spectacular show of _magic,_" said the man who called himself "Mask," looking back down at the arena. He growled the word _magic_ as if he was offended by the word. "Nothing compared to your father at the mere age of fourteen, though. I was at that Triwizard Tournament as well, long before these gray hairs came in."

Albus was looking for the quickest sprint to the nearest person; Mask seemed to be aware of this.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," he said.

Albus backed away again.

"Come here for a moment," said Mask, reaching into his robes.

Every muscle in Albus's body tensed, and his hand shot to his wand, pulling it out instinctively.

"So quick to curse me, are you?" laughed Mask. "But _could_ you even curse me if you wanted? I hear you've been having a problem."

"How do you know that?" demanded Albus, liking less and less by the minute the situation in which he was finding himself.

"I make it my business to know as much as I can," said Mask. "I pity your condition. Really depressing, isn't it, not being able to do magic when you want to?"

Albus kept his wand steady, thinking of what curses he could successfully pull off at this point if necessary.

"Wish I could help you," sighed Mask quietly, almost to himself. "There's no fun in hunting a stag with a limp."

"_Excuse me?_" choked Albus, his breath hitching.

Then the most welcome voice possible echoed out from behind Albus.

"Who are you? What's going on?"

Albus nearly broke down crying in relief as his father appeared behind him. Harry looked down to see Mask's hand inside his robes, and his hand flew to his own wand.

"Relax," said Mask, pulling a camera from an inside pocket. "I simply wondered if I might have a picture with your son."

Harry stared him down suspiciously.

"We don't do photos with every random stranger we encounter," said Harry sternly. "Sorry, but if we did, we'd be snapping pictures until we were dead."

"Understood," said Mask, stowing the camera again. "Cheers, Harry Potter, Albus Potter. Can't wait to meet the family. See you soon."

"What do you mean, see us soon?" asked Harry, his wand now fully extended towards the stranger.

Mask did not respond. He turned and walked away.

"You get the adorable fangirls, but you also get the creepy old men," said Harry, scratching his sideburns and searching the stands. "Sometimes I really wish I wasn't famous." He kept an eye on Mask. "What was he saying to you before? I got here as quickly as I could when I saw him standing over you."

"He called himself Mask," said Albus, shivering.

"Mask?"

"Yeah. And he knew I was having a block in magic."

"What?"

"He said something like, 'I wish I could help you, because it's not fun to hunt a stag with a limp,'" Albus recited.

Harry's face filled with terror. He glanced over Albus's shoulder to see Wilcox trotting over looking concerned, and when Wilcox was close enough to Albus that Harry could be sure his son was safe, he sprinted after Mask, looking everywhere; it was no use, the man had disappeared.

Wilcox escorted Albus back to the Hogwarts crew, not pressing Albus about what had just happened, for which Albus was thankful.

Roxanne intercepted them before Albus got to his friends.

"Firstly, I'm really jealous that you got to go see the champions, and secondly, have you apologized to Lucas yet?" she muttered to him.

"Wh—er—n—no," stuttered Albus, still slightly in shock.

Roxanne blinked. "What the hell happened to _you?_"

"If you would, Roxanne," murmured Wilcox, pushing her aside and escorting Albus back up to his friends.

Rose leapt on Albus even more violently than Roxanne, incredibly jealous that Albus had been invited to visit Molly. Wilcox put his hands on her shoulders and said something to her quietly; she backed away. He continued to reprimand anyone who asked Albus about what had happened for the entire time until they returned to the Subterrestrial Express.

When Wilcox had finally left, Holly was the first to ask.

"What happened?" she asked in a hushed voice, as if afraid that Wilcox was right outside their compartment, listening. "Are you okay?"

"Some… weird guy came up to me," said Albus. "He was… He freaked me out."

"Oh," said Alec, who had also come to watch the first task. "Is that all?"

"He said he was hunting me."

The compartment fell entirely silent except for when the train began to move.

"That's not creepy, that's criminal," said Aidan.

"When he left, he said, 'See you soon.'"

"Okay," said Exo. "I'd be worried."

"I am," whispered Albus.

Everyone else in the compartment drifted off rather quickly, but Albus couldn't sleep. The man called Mask was haunting him. He wanted to take his mind off of it, but nobody was awake to talk.

Then Lucas passed by their compartment outside, laughing and talking with someone, and Albus decided that he knew how to take his mind off of the incident.

He lifted himself, nudging Holly's head off of his shoulder and leaning her against the window, and then stepped over the limp legs out of the compartment.

"Lucas," he called, not entirely sure what he was going to say yet.

Lucas turned around, shocked to hear Albus talking to him. Candice, with whom he had been speaking, raised an eyebrow warily and ducked into a compartment.

"What?" he growled at Albus, his hand inching closer to his wand.

"I'm sorry."

Lucas reeled backwards.

"Say again?"

"I'm sorry," said Albus. "For… being… how I've been… being. Sorry."

"Right," snorted Lucas.

"I'm serious," said Albus softly. "Seriously. Sorry."

Lucas looked around, then grabbed Albus's arm and dragged him to an empty compartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Who's making you apologize to me?" he interrogated.

Albus rolled his eyes. He should have known that this would be the reaction.

"Is it Roxy? Who?"

"Stop calling her Roxy, she doesn't like being called that," huffed Albus. "And no. I'm apologizing for myself."

"I'm sorry, too," scoffed Lucas. "I'm sorry because I think it's a little too late to apologize! You little rat, you chickened out of our duel!"

"Excuse me?" said Albus. "_You_ chickened out of our duel!"

"Right, that's why Boderight was right outside the trophy room, waiting for me, and that's why he caught me and took fifty points from Gryffindor! Are you happy, Potter?"

Albus let out a quick laugh. "Wait—really? You didn't tell Boderight on me?"

"Why would I? You're the one who set me up, you were probably sniggering in your bed the whole night!"

"I left, too, when I saw that you weren't in the common room," said Albus, still finding the situation rather humorous. "I was in the trophy room at one point and Boderight came in—I thought he was going to find me—I thought that _you_ told Boderight there'd be someone in the trophy room!"

"Oh," said Lucas.

Both teens sat in the compartment feeling very idiotic about themselves for a while. Neither had been ratted out—Lucas had been caught going down, and Boderight suspected that there was something going on, so he checked out the surrounding area.

"You're still an ass, though," said Lucas.

Albus knew Lucas wouldn't take an apology.

"Fine, then," said Albus. "We can duel tonight. Make up for lost time."

"We certainly can," said Lucas challengingly. "Wandless again."

"Of course," said Albus. "Same time, same place. Take two."

"So. Who was making you apologize?"

"Roxanne," said Albus, nodding. "She'll be going out with a smear on the wall soon."

"I'd like to see you try."

Albus stood up and left the compartment.

O

The next time Albus was alone in a room with Lucas was in the trophy room that night at midnight.

"Ready?" said Albus. "You'd better enjoy being intact, while you still can."

"You'd better enjoy pretending that you can threaten me," retorted Lucas.

"Begin?"

"Begin."

Albus raised up his hand; so did Lucas.

With a tilt of his head, the hem of Lucas's cloak caught fire. He noticed it quickly in the darkened room and gave a start; he quickly threw off the cloak, but with another tilt of Albus's head, his shirt caught fire.

Lucas tried in vain to pat out the flames; he instead placed his hand on his shirt and concentrated; the flames slowly died down. Flames were, after all, pure energy, and were easiest to control without a wand. Still, Albus was slightly unsettled; Lucas shouldn't have been able to do that. _Albus_ was the Wandless Magic prodigy. _Albus_ was the one who could do things like—

He blasted a fireball from the palm of his hand.

Lucas leapt to the side and yelped as the fireball whizzed by him, exploding on the wall; he looked up at Albus, looking mesmerized.

Albus's energy was boiling inside him; he hadn't been able to release his magic in some time, and the buildup was almost painful. It felt amazing to be able to get this magic out. All the same, though, he was getting tired already, and he'd barely done anything.

Lucas raised his own hand, and a pulse of energy emanated out, knocking into Albus's stomach and unbalancing him for a moment. This was more of a duel than Albus had been expecting—wandless magic was not something a third year could master. He suspected that the fact that he and Lucas utterly despised each other was fueling their magic; emotions made wandless magic easier, even if actual spellwork was nearly impossible. They would, at least, be able to do pulses of energy for a while.

Albus thought about all of the times that Lucas pissed him off, and he threw a punch into the air; the air rippled as the energy flew towards Lucas, bashing against his head and slamming him backwards to the ground.

Lucas leapt back up to his feet and did the same thing, though noticeably less powerful; it just felt like a slap to the face.

Albus curled his hands into fists again—Lucas had been a pain in his arse for the last time. It was time to end this rivalry, to show Lucas who was superior once and for all.

He sprinted at Lucas, energy cloaking his fist like a super-powered punch, and Lucas responded with a strong kick right in the path of Albus's swing with a similar power.

The ensuing explosion knocked Lucas back against the wall and he was out cold instantaneously. This would have caused Albus to jump and cheer had he not been hurtling backwards through the air himself.

He felt his head strike stone, and then he blacked out as well.

* * *

_**pandagirl23 asked why Albus doesn't write to his parents about the problem. Albus does write to his parents, I just have neglected to show that. I probably should have at least made some mention. So, in this chapter, I decided to mention that he had been writing to his parents! Thanks for the tip. Sometimes I know things and then I assume that you know them because I know them, even though I didn't write it.**_

_**bakkasama asked: If there are different kinds of magic that are focused on different parts of the body, does that mean that you can get tired doing one kind of magic and still have spare for another branch of it (without taking into account how tiredness affect the concentration needed to perform them)? What I mean is, does the magic in one body work like ammunition would for different kinds of guns or is there a conversion value to transform one kind into another? Answer: Yep! Brilliant! You're absolutely right. Doing Charms before Transfiguration is like exercising different muscles. You'll still be tired overall, of course.**_

_**anothersignalman asked: does the wand usually prefer to match its talents to that of the user, or does it prefer to compensate for the user's failings? Also, how far does Albus have till the next holidays? Which wand ignited Albus's belongings? Also, I'm assuming he was using the original wand when he got the black smoke a while back? Lastly (for now), is there any difference between two wands if they have the same dimensions, timber, maturation, core, length etc? Or will both be attracted to the same type of person, and could a diwand student end up with two of the same? Answer: (whew!) I'm really happy about how involved you are in the story! Thanks for reviewing (that goes to everyone!) The wand will (usually) try to help the user however it can, but I think it would depend on the wand in general, whether the wand would do more to help or let the user figure it out on his or her own. The next holidays are the Christmas holidays. The wand that ignited his trunk was his original wand, and that was the black smoke wand as well. And I tend to think that wands made exactly the same would still be different, just like identical twins with exactly the same genetic make-up can still be completely different people.**_

_**blitzer99 asked what kind of cat Gimmick was-he's part-Kneazle :)**_

_**And a guest calling him/herself "Doctor Who" asked me if I like Doctor Who. I don't know, I've never seen an episode. (Should I?)**_

_**Thank you for the love! Ask a question and I'll give you an answer! Leave a review in general and I'll give you an internet hug! And follow the story if you haven't already; make sure you're following if you don't know whether you are or not! We're closer to 100 followers than I ever thought I'd be! Thank you SO MUCH!**_


	9. Destroying the World

**WARNING.**_** MINOR CHARACTER DEATHS COMING SOON. Not in this chapter specifically, but soon.**_

_**If you are squeamish about death... Well, you'd probably better get over that, because there'll be death in this series, and not all of it will be so minor.**_

* * *

_**IMPORTANT NOTE:**__** I made a mistake in the very first chapter when I uploaded the chapter list. Originally I had accidentally put Chapter Nine as "Warmer than Butterbeer" and Chapter Ten as "Destroying the World." Those should have been switched. Chapter Nine this week is "Destroying the World" and Chapter Ten next week will be "Warmer than Butterbeer."**_

_**And again, be on the lookout for random letters scattered throughout the text due to the document manager. (Maybe it'll stop now that the site has gone through its uploads, though. Let's hope.)**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

CHAPTER NINE

DESTROYING THE WORLD

O

When Albus woke, he was in the hospital wing. Lying in a bed next to him was Lucas with bandages around his head. He lifted up his hands to his own head and found a bandage there.

"At _last!_" called Madam Birchbaum, storming over. "You're up! Now you can tell us what in Merlin's name you two were doing, bleeding and unconscious in the trophy room in the middle of the night! Professor Westerling nearly had a heart attack!"

Albus couldn't remember for a moment why he had been there. When it finally did come back to him, he realized that it wasn't exactly something he could tell Madam Birchbaum.

"I don't know," he fibbed.

"Oh, come off it," she grumbled. "You know why you were there—you were preparing for it, you were out of your dormitory after hours and you had your belongings with you. So what were you doing?"

"Practicing wandless magic," said Lucas, opening his eyes.

Madam Birchbaum swiveled her body to face him. She placed her hands on her hips disapprovingly.

"Practicing wandless magic. I see. Why couldn't you do this during the day?"

Lucas was silent.

"And although gossip is not part of my line of work, it's not like I haven't heard tell from the teachers that you two hate each other. Were you dueling?"

Albus supposed it must have been obvious from the position in which they were discovered.

He decided to just change the subject. "What day is it?"

"It's five o'clock on Saturday morning," she said, waving him off. "You didn't miss a day or anything, it's only been a little under five hours since you got knocked out. Professor Westerling heard an explosion in the trophy room." She shook her head. "If you would like my professional medical opinion, you are both idiots."

Lucas shifted so that he was facing away from Albus.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent making sure that the boys' brains weren't damaged from the concussive blows. According to Madam Birchbaum, if there had been any damage, they would have had to get transferred to St. Mungo's briefly, as it was too easy to make a mistake in trying to repair the mind using magic. The process of thought was still not fully understood and only an absolutely perfect team of professionals could fix damage to the brain without risk. Fortunately, Albus was fine; unfortunately, Lucas was also fine. Or, as Madam Birchbaum put it, there was nothing _new_ that was wrong with their heads, but they were both still idiots.

After that, Albus and Lucas were subjected to a long and stern talk by Professor Longbottom, their Head of House. Albus hadn't gotten into much trouble before that, so it was a novel experience for him; it also seemed to be a shock to Lucas. Albus kept himself secretly amused during the lecture by watching Lucas look like he was about to be sick.

"If anything like this ever happens again—_anything_ remotely like this—you will receive far more punishment," said Professor Longbottom. "This time, you will report for detention tonight and tomorrow night, and we will be writing to both your parents about the incident. You could have both been injured, or killed. This is _not_ the behavior we expect from Hogwarts students; therefore, if this behavior continues, you two will not be Hogwarts students for very much longer. Am I understood?"

"Yes," mumbled Albus; Lucas nodded and whimpered.

"Good," said Professor Longbottom. "Albus and Lucas, I am very disappointed in the both of you, but after your punishment is over, if we can pretend that this never happened and if you can ensure me that it will never happen again, that would be ideal. Can we do that?"

"Yes," said Albus and Lucas together.

"Then I'll see you both on Monday."

Professor Longbottom left, shaking his head.

Lucas puffed air angrily from his nose as soon as the door swung shut.

"You got a problem?" asked Albus facetiously.

"Obviously."

"What problem could perfect little Lucas Lotor possibly have?" growled Albus. "You're a prodigious Animagus, Patronus-making, nonverbal-spell-casting, superstar teacher's pet, you can't possibly have any issues!"

Lucas turned to him with an eyebrow up.

"I can't do nonverbal magic," he said bemusedly.

"You changed my parchment into an impeccable children's book in one of our first Transfiguration assignments of the term," scoffed Albus, "and I didn't hear a thing!"

Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"It's called 'whispering,'" he said quietly. "I may be a lot better than you at everything but I'm not _that_ powerful… yet."

"You arrogant git."

"You dumbass! This situation is entirely _your_ fault, you know."

"_My_ fault?" sputtered Albus. "You challenged me to the first duel!"

"You took me seriously when I was joking," corrected Lucas. "And then _you_ challenged _me_ to the second duel."

"You didn't accept my apology."

"_You_ weren't apologizing of your own accord."

"_You're_ a stupid wanker!"

"A what?"

"Can you just go back to America already?" snapped Albus.

Lucas turned his back to Albus again.

But his time, after a little while, Albus could see the slight twitches and hear the gentle sniffles which clearly indicated that Lucas was crying.

Albus felt like hurling another insult, but it was literally too pathetic to mandate an insult. Despite every irritation that Lucas had caused him, Albus felt some slight pity welling up from a hidden crack in his soul.

They were released from the hospital wing shortly after that talk. As he walked back into the Gryffindor common room, Roxanne was upon him so swiftly he wondered if she'd been waiting for him.

"What the hell happened between you and Lucas?" she said, clearly exasperated.

"I apologized," answered Albus truthfully.

Roxanne raised an eyebrow.

"I don't recall the last time my apology exploded," she noted. "What happened _after_ you apologized?"

"He didn't accept my apology, and then we dueled. No one won, so I guess we'll have to duel again sometime."

"You will _absolutely not_ do that," said Roxanne quickly. "Well, at any rate, I'm glad you apologized." She sighed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Albus.

"Did he figure out that I made you apologize?"

"Yep."

Roxanne sighed heavier. "Well, I'm not going out with him again, so don't worry, I guess."

Albus waited until Roxanne left the common room to exhale in relief.

O

The detentions weren't bad—it was just organizing some of Professor Longbottom's papers. Lucas's consequent behavior was far worse than the punishment.

As if to balance out the fact that Albus had witnessed him crying, or maybe as retaliation for the detentions, Lucas became even nastier than before. Now Albus was finding himself tripping and hitting invisible walls in hallways. At least they weren't partners in Transfiguration anymore—that had ended right before their first, failed duel.

The only person who appeared to notice this, besides the friends that Albus told about it, was Professor Desulgon. Their Transfiguration teacher didn't miss much, and he was keeping a very close eye on Albus. As such, he noticed things that Lucas did if he was passing Albus in the hallway. This got Albus feeling very optimistic—maybe Lucas would lose some favor with the teachers if word got around through a source as reputable as Professor Desulgon that he was, in fact, a snarky, greasy git.

But nothing got Albus more optimistic than the letter he received on Monday morning.

He looked up at breakfast and saw an unfamiliar owl drop down by his side. He knew it couldn't be Luna—Luna would have sent back Nika. It was a beautiful and huge owl; gray with a hint of blue, like faint clouds that didn't quite obscure the sky. It was such a handsome creature that Albus supposed it could only belong to one person—and when he opened the letter it had given him, he shocked himself by being right.

The letter was from Janelle.

_Hi, Albus,_

_This is Janelle Lombard! We talked at the first task of the Triwizard Tournament; I am friends with your cousins' cousins. So we left on slightly awkward terms. I apologize for that. I might have told my sister that I thought you were cute. Well, you are! (I am blushing while writing this… but I will send it anyway.)_

_I thought we had a very nice conversation at the first task. You seem like a very nice boy. Anyway, I want to ask you something. My sister Donna, being the champion for Beauxbatons, told me that she can pull some strings and get me into the Yule Ball._

_Would you like to go with me?_

_I'm not really interested in any of the boys here. Many of them have already guessed that I can go to the Yule Ball because my sister is the champion, and have asked me, but I can tell that they are only asking because they just want to be able to go to the ball and not because they like me. We could also just go as friends, because you are the type of boy I would like to be friends with. You are funny and smart and kind. So I thought I would ask._

_Eagerly awaiting your response!_

_-Janelle_

_P.S. My owl's name is Buteau and he likes fish._

Albus turned to look at the big bird, which was ruffling its feathers at him.

"Sorry, Buteau," he said apologetically. "It's breakfast and I don't have any fish. I'll have to write out my response at lunch, though—I'll see if there's any seafood."

Buteau understood well enough and clicked his beak in expectation.

Albus found it very difficult to concentrate in his three classes before lunch. Throughout Defense Against the Dark Arts, in which they practiced some basic counter-curses, he was trying to decide whether he wanted to respond yes or no. Throughout Muggle Studies, after he had decided that he really did want to go to the Yule Ball, while they studied Muggle medicine, he debated whether to phrase his letter that he was just looking to go as friends, or let Janelle assume that he liked her back. And throughout Ancient Runes, when they studied the ancient works of Simius Smadder, he held an internal argument on whether he did like Janelle—enough to go to the Yule Ball with her rather than hanging out with Holly and maybe kissing her again.

Before he made his decision, though, he realized that the Yule Ball was on Christmas Day—he was supposed to be home with his family. He'd have to write home to his mother and father and see if he would be allowed to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas before he could write back to Janelle.

As an apology to Buteau for making him wait, Albus gave the owl a large plate of fish from lunch, which the owl happily devoured. Albus then promised Buteau fish any time it was served until the owl got to deliver his response, and then escorted him to the Owlery to wait until he knew whether he could say yes to Janelle.

O

It was, without question, time to start thinking about his relationship with Holly.

Holly was one of the best friends he had at Hogwarts. She was always there for him. But although he'd developed a bit of a crush on her from the earliest moments, he had to admit, to be honest with himself, that the "crush" part wasn't there anymore. When he looked at Holly, he saw a fantastic friend. Try as he might—and he tried very hard to make absolute sure—when he looked at Holly, he did not imagine kissing her again, or calling himself her boyfriend.

It was going to be hard to break this to Holly, and he still had to figure out how to do it. As far as he knew, she still thought that he might like to have another "study session" ending like the previous one. And the truth was that he didn't. He liked Janelle already, and even if nothing worked out between them, Holly was still just a friend. An excellent friend, and one of the most loyal he had, but undeniably a friend. If she suddenly hated him for not going anywhere further, well, then she wasn't as good of a friend as he thought.

He hoped that he would get an immediate answer to his letter so that he didn't have to keep Janelle waiting. His anxiety for a response from his parents was apparently very noticeable to his friends. Exo and Rose both asked him why he was staring at the ceiling before the mail came the next day. Thankfully, his father did not disappoint him, and he got the response within twenty-four hours like he'd hoped. James's owl Thoebl, whom Albus had borrowed, happily bestowed the letter upon Albus.

_Hey Al,_

_I'm so happy to hear you're going to the Yule Ball! Of course you can stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. But I also have an alternate proposal for you. I might have mentioned that you're going to the Yule Ball to some folks at the office when I got your letter there (because I'm a very proud father, don't be mad at me!) and I got a nice offer from my friend and fellow Auror Theela Dane._

_Her son Lyman, who is a year above you and also in Gryffindor, is going to the Yule Ball, but he also wants to be home for Christmas. So he's going to be coming home for the break, having an early Christmas dinner with his family, and will then be transported by his mother back to Hogwarts where he will catch transportation to the Yule Ball. Afterwards, his mother will drive you two back home straight from Beauxbatons. The other good thing about doing this is that you'll be home in between trips, so we won't have to send your dress robes over to Hogwarts beforehand._

_So, you could either do this, or you could also stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas break. But I'm going to be honest and tell you that your mother probably wouldn't like that. So, send your letter off to Janelle now, and then send one to me telling me whether Theela should bring you to Beauxbatons and then home with Lyman, or whether you won't be needing transportation. (Please come home for Christmas though.) We'll be having Christmas dinner with the Weasleys on Christmas Eve anyway, so you won't miss that if you come home. (Please come home!)_

_Sorry for weighting your decision so much. Hopefully see you soon! (Sorry, I did it again!)_

_-Dad_

Without further ado, Albus whipped out a quill and some parchment, and began to pen his quick response to Janelle, using his arm to hide it from his friends. He read it over again when he'd finished to make sure he didn't sound too awkward in the letter.

_Dear Janelle,_

_I'd love to accompany you to the Yule Ball! Thank you very much for inviting me. Can't wait to see you then!_

_-Albus_

There were twenty-five words in this letter and still he fretted over the phrasing for about ten minutes while his friends attempted to look over his shoulder to see what he was writing about and to whom he was writing. Finally, he worked up the courage to run up to the Owlery before breakfast was over to give his short letter to Buteau. Afterwards, he wrote up a quick response to his father, saying that it would work out perfectly for Lyman's mother to provide transportation to and from the Yule Ball.

During Wandless Magic that evening, it was hard for him to keep quiet about why he was so happy, and so he decided to disclose to his three closest friends the nature of his letters that morning.

"I'm going to the Yule Ball with Donna Lombard's sister, Janelle," he said to Alec, Aidan, and Exo excitedly, looking around to make sure Holly wasn't nearby. He didn't want to have to explain just yet.

"You're joking," said Aidan. Exo's jaw dropped, and Alec immediately turned and stared an obvious amount at Holly before turning back.

"No, I'm not," insisted Albus, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the evidence. "Here's her letter. I said yes!"

Aidan reached for the letter, but Alec snatched it away first. He scanned it as quickly as he could four times before Aidan finally ripped it away to read for himself.

"That's… wow," said Exo, reading over Aidan's shoulder. "That happened fast."

"I know, but she's really nice," said Albus. "I might have asked her if I knew she and I would be allowed to go."

"So, is this it with Holly?" asked Aidan, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing's _over,_" insisted Albus.

"Juggling two girls?" asked Alec.

"No! I meant that nothing's over because… well… nothing really happened."

"She's not into you?" pressed Exo.

"That can't be it," said Alec. "Mia keeps telling me how much Holly keeps telling her that she likes Albus."

Albus's heart sank through the floor, probably straight through the earth and out the other side. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

"I don't really… see us as a pair anymore."

"Well, what the heck happened?" asked Alec. "She was all over you on the train!"

"I know, and that's why I realized it," said Albus. "I don't really know how to explain it. I thought I wanted her really close, and when she got that close… I didn't really feel like it was…" He placed his hands on the back of his head, trying to put his feelings into words. "I just didn't know whether I liked her that way… and I figured out the answer when we kissed."

"Whoa, you _did_ kiss her?" whispered Aidan, slapping a hand over Alec's mouth before he could bellow it out and give them away.

"Yeah," said Albus sheepishly.

"And that's when you realized that you'd rather be kissing someone else?" inquired Exo.

"Yep."

"Who? Janelle?"

"Maybe," said Albus, blushing. "That's… why I'm going to the Yule Ball with her. …To find out."

"Gonna do some French kissing?" laughed Alec.

Aidan punched him on the arm.

"Ow," said Alec. "Oh, and by the way, Aidan! Now _you_ can go after Holly!"

"I don't like Holly," said Aidan.

"Who do you like, then?"

"I don't like anyone."

"You may need to lower your standards."

"You don't like us?" asked Exo.

"You know what I mean," laughed Aidan. "So, no, I wouldn't kiss any of you."

"Boys!" barked Professor Skower from the front of the room, having just tuned in to their conversation and noticed that they weren't doing any work. "Stop talking about kissing each other and get back to your Resonance!"

The class laughed, and Albus reddened further when Holly looked over with a questioning gaze.

He picked up the glass of water he'd been given for the assignment and bombarded it with his magical energy; the water evaporated instantly as the glass fell to the ground as dust.

Resonance was still something he could do insanely well. Exo's wand was serving him just as well as his original wands, but he still felt himself boiling over with unused magical energy. His energy had been diminished after his duel with Lucas, which had thoroughly exhausted him, but it was building back up again; he could feel the tension inside his veins. His Kinetic levels were surging back up, faster than before, with how little opportunity he had to expend as much energy as he needed.

O

On the Thursday just before the Christmas holidays arrived, during their Modern Magical Instruments class, Albus wondered if he should tell Holly where he was going for Christmas before or after the holidays. He didn't want to make her upset right before Christmas, but he also didn't want her to find out before he told her… or to kiss him goodbye on the train.

He decided to catch her after the class to have the conversation with her sooner rather than later—postponing it wasn't going to make it any less painful—but when he tried to get her attention after class, she completely ignored him and pushed her way out of the room first.

_Uh-oh._

He hadn't noticed it, but Holly hadn't made eye contact with him all week.

Rose walked up to him as he was packing his bag. Gimmick was trailing behind her—he'd taken a liking to Rose recently and was following her to classes. As the black cat rubbed against her leg, purring, Rose folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"So," she said bossily. "You're going to the Yule Ball?"

Albus winced. "How did you know that?"

"Word's gotten around," she said. "Holly knows," she added ominously.

"I got that," said Albus, looking at where Holly had disappeared. He and Rose started the walk back to the common room.

"So you don't like Holly anymore?" asked Rose curiously.

"I don't really know if I ever did," said Albus. "I think that I didn't know whether or not I liked her, and what I found out when we got closer is that I just like her as a friend." With practice, he was getting a bit better at explaining himself, which was good because he needed to be able to explain it really well when he spoke with Holly.

"Have you talked to Holly about it yet?"

"No, but I planned on doing that today. I didn't know she already heard. Who blew it?"

"Alec, obviously," said Rose. "He has a really big heart… But a bigger mouth."

"Yeah, I expected it was him."

There was a brief silence while Gimmick weaved in between their feet like an obstacle course.

"Do you like anyone?" asked Albus.

"Hey, we're talking about you here," said Rose. "Don't avoid the conversation."

"Wait! I'm done talking about me. _You're_ the one avoiding the question! So do you like anyone?"

Rose turned slightly pink.

"No," she said, entirely unconvincingly.

"Who?"

"No one!"

"Who's this no one? Someone I know?"

"Shut it!"

Rose refused to reveal her crush, much to Albus's disappointment. He made a mental note to pester her forever until she told him.

O

Holly couldn't escape from Albus forever. After having known her for two and a half years, Albus knew her study habits, and due to the fact that there was a cumulative test in Modern Magical Instruments on all of the history of wandlore up to the last year before the common era, he knew he would find her in the library while everyone else was having dinner, doing some last minute studying.

The worst scenarios he envisioned were either finding her in tears or leaving her in tears. The former was not the case; the latter was yet to be determined. He approached her warily at her favorite table; her eyes flickered up to him momentarily and then back to her text.

"Hi, Holly," said Albus. "Mind if we talk?"

Holly shrugged.

Albus sat down with her, feeling very awkward as he did so. But no matter what he did, this was going to be awkward, so the best way to minimize the awkwardness was to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"So, I thought we should talk about… er… about our kiss on the train," said Albus. He continued when he didn't get a response from Holly. "I… you know, I really like you as a friend, and I hope we can stay friends, but… er…"

"You don't like me as a girlfriend," finished Holly.

Albus paused. "…I guess… not."

"It's okay, I understand," said Holly.

"You do?" said Albus, brightening.

Holly slammed her _History of Wandlore_ text on the table as hard as she possibly could. Given her tiny frame and pencil-thin arms, this was not very hard, but it was still intimidating as her gaze bored into his face, and all Albus could think was that facing Holly when she was angry would be a Triwizard task that no champion could conquer.

"I understand _completely,_" she hissed in his face. "I understand that the friend you've had for almost _three years_ is significantly less important to you than a pretty French tramp you met a few hours ago!"

"Hey—don't call her that!" shouted Albus.

"Oh, I forgot that you love her so much after just having met her!" snarled Holly, snapping her book shut and throwing it in her bag with deliberately excessive force. "Because you know her _so well_ already."

"Holly, I thought we were friends," protested Albus in more of a whine than he'd intended.

"Albus Potter, if you led me on like that while planning the whole time to leave me for the next girl you drool over, I really can't believe that you're my friend."

With that, Holly stormed out of the library and made it clear that she was also storming straight out of Albus's life.

O

The train ride back from Hogsmeade Station to King's Cross was the first time in a while that Holly had not been in his friends' compartment with him. Now Aidan, Alec, Mia, Exo, Parker, Jonah, and Toby were in his compartment; Mia looked a bit annoyed that she was now the only girl in the compartment, but she and Alec were so infatuated with each other that they didn't really care.

Albus was brooding the whole way back about how Holly had treated him when he had only wanted to tell her that he still wished to be friends with her. What did she want him to do? Lie and say that he _did_ like her that way, and then keep kissing her while he remained unhappy? How could she think that liking someone in a certain way was "planned?" Of course he hadn't "planned" on leaving her; of course he hadn't "planned" on feeling this way for Janelle instead! Why she was acting like they were "breaking up" when they had never actually been together? And since when was she so spiteful?

But he realized that, just like it wasn't possible to plan his feelings, she probably hadn't planned her reaction, either. His feelings on the matter were probably just as incomprehensible to Holly as hers were to him. He couldn't dwell on it—she'd live, and she'd come around. Holly was normally a level-headed person.

Or at least, he _hoped_ she'd come around. Again, as he'd often heard, what people did when influenced by romantic attractions was often inexplicable. And he'd often heard his father telling his mother that she was "his whole world." If Holly felt that way about Albus, he may have just destroyed her whole world.

If things didn't work out between him and Janelle, though… would he start to like Holly again? And if he did, would she ever forgive him?

He really hoped that he hadn't just destroyed _his_ whole world.

O

As expected, on Christmas Eve when he had dinner with the Weasleys, he was bombarded with questions about the Yule Ball. He was able to avoid most of them based on the fact that he didn't know much about Janelle or the Yule Ball.

He also got to meet Heather Alkalax, Freddie's new girlfriend who was a year below Freddie in Ravenclaw. She was extremely quiet and not at all the type of girl Albus had thought Freddie would date; he expected someone as crazy as Freddie. James had brought Tabby, and Molly had brought Dyson. And Teddy would be arriving soon. Dominique did not have a boyfriend, but apparently she was seeing someone in France. Nearly everyone was in couples, and Albus almost felt awkward to be without a date.

Almost everyone also seemed to be in a stunningly good mood. Louis was the happiest person by far at the table—Albus wondered what had happened. Last he had heard, Louis had broken up with Flavia about a month earlier.

"What is it with the Potter-Weasley family and Triwizard connections?" asked Grandpa Weasley, laughing. "Hermione and Viktor Krum—"

Aunt Hermione blushed a deeper red than the Durmstrang robes.

"—Bill and Fleur, Harry _was_ a Champion, Molly competed in the Tournament as part of the Hogwarts team this year in the first task, and now Albus is dating a sister of one of the Triwizard champions!"

Louis laughed out loud; Uncle Percy, however, continued eating in silence, looking as grave and solemn as ever. Albus couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Uncle Percy smile.

"What's wrong, Perce?" asked Uncle George, finally directing the attention to the only person at the table who didn't seem to be enjoying himself. "It's Christmas. Lighten up. Even the Minister for Magic can get to enjoy himself every once in a while, yeah?"

"No, I can't," said Uncle Percy.

The mood in the room swiftly clicked down several degrees away from "cheerful," and Albus sincerely hoped that there wouldn't be a repeat of the Easter dinner of two years back.

"I've caused chaos," said Uncle Percy. "I've made such a mess of things. I shouldn't be taking time off for a single dinner—I need to clean up after myself."

Aunt Audrey started stroking his arm, nodding. Being his wife, she probably already understood what he was ranting about, but the rest of the family was still in the dark.

"Perce, what are you talking about?" asked Uncle Bill.

"The damned global revelation," he muttered. "I should never have agreed to it. We should have done everything possible to avoid having a global revelation—I should have known what it would mean for the world."

"I still think we're better off now than we would have been if the global revelation hadn't happened," said Grandpa Weasley. "Think how many more incidents would have occurred."

"That's just it!" exclaimed Percy. "We should have started working to prevent those incidents and keep the secret rather than take the easy short-term solution that causes more problems than I could fix in ten lifetimes!" He buried his head in his hands, pushing his plate away. "I should be spending every second of my life trying to fix this screw-up because I caused it."

"It was a mutual decision by the leaders of the world, Percy," said Grandpa Weasley. "The decision wouldn't have been made if it wasn't for the greater good in most respects."

"We were wrong," moaned Percy. "You have _no idea_ what I've been having to deal with. Muggles everywhere demanding recompense for magical incidents. A couple of Muggle oil drillers hit a batch of Blicks just yesterday and their equipment was teleported to the top of a mountain, and they want to sue the Ministry for having neglected to inform them of the magical danger in that region. Wizards everywhere complaining that Muggles are demanding their services. Murderers like this damned Siobor man, and small-scale wars breaking out everywhere. Religious institutions telling their members to stay away from magical people at all costs and resulting in the destruction of previously integrated families. Everything is upside-down and there's no way to go back and it's going to escalate even further and there's no way to slow it down. At some point it's all going to become too much and all will collapse. I've—I've destroyed the world."

"That's total rubbish," said Harry sharply. "There is literally no way to destroy the world. It will always come back. We will always recover. You understand the resilience of the common people. We've already come so far! These are just growing pains. We're going to keep having them until the new world matures. Teenagers are always damn near impossible to deal with but we don't say that we've failed as parents!"

"Hey!" yelled most of the kids at the table.

"This is just how it's going to be for a while," insisted Harry. "Don't say you're destroying the world. The world is simply undergoing construction, so it's just going to look nasty for a while."

Percy finally smiled and gave a very faint laugh.

"You certainly know how to give a public speech, Harry," he said, rubbing his eyes and wiping his hair back. "Then again, the press does always turn to you when they need reassurance. I don't need reassurance, Harry—I need _results._ Results that just seem too far out of reach right now."

"They always do seem to be 'out of reach,'" said Harry, "until you remember that nothing actually is."

Percy shook his head.

"Things are coming together," said Harry. "We're picking up Siobor's scent. We're finally getting it through to Muggles that magic is a limited resource. And we're closing in on this Sandblood problem—thanks to Al."

"Me?" asked Albus, surprised.

"Yes," said Harry. "Thanks to my younger son, we now know what the head of the Sandblood operation looks like."

Albus thought for a moment. "The man who called himself Mask?"

"That's the one," said Harry. "We ran a check of known Squibs and came up with a file on a man named Maskorn Malseth… presumably 'Mask' for short. I was using the Pensieve in my room for a while to get down a sketch of the man I saw talking to you, and when I was finished, we used the drawing to identify him in several old pictures. He was the son of a prominent pureblood politician from a while back, Melwid Malseth, who passed some pretty harsh restrictions on what Squibs could do in the world of magic and then produced a Squib son and was forever ashamed of himself. 'Mask' was the head of a Squib support group for a while, and then disappeared two and a half years back… only a few short months before you, Albus, discovered a little creature called a mulunctapol."

The table was silent.

"We can't immediately assume a connection," said Harry, "but it's likely that the Sandbloods are breeding the mulunctapoli. And now that we've alerted Muggles to be on the lookout for Malseth, I think that we might finally be able to get somewhere."

The only people who didn't seem to be surprised were those who worked at the Ministry or were married to Ministry workers. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Percy, and Audrey all seemed rather satisfied to be hearing this, and the other members of the table looked extremely excited by the news.

"That is beyond excellent to hear, Harry!" said Grandma Weasley, looking enthralled.

"Yes, with any luck, we'll have this bast—this jerk—in custody soon," said Harry, catching himself before he used harsh language in front of his kids. "And maybe, if Solomon or Siobor is working for the Sandbloods, or with the Sandbloods, we'll get him, too, from Malseth's information. We think Malseth is the top of the pyramid there."

Albus didn't bother correcting his father that Solomon was innocent.

The door opened, and Albus peered over the table nervously before remembering that this house had some of the strictest protections available. It must be someone they knew. Teddy, maybe?

"Hullo, everyone!" said an unfamiliar voice as the sound of the shutting door echoed into the room. "Sorry I'm late!"

A very tall, dark-skinned man walked into the room. His hair was very short and colored sparsely with gray like pepper. He shrugged off a large bag and jogged over to the table, planting a kiss on Victoire's cheek. She giggled and pulled out the chair next to her—the one that was meant for Teddy when he arrived. Was this Teddy under Polyjuice? He was in his last year of Auror training, after all.

"Hold up, there, my favorite godson," said Harry, directing his wand at this newcomer's face. "You know I have to ask!"

"My hair was black when I was born and it changed to ginger within the hour," replied Teddy, grinning like a lunatic. "Yeah, sorry, but I can prove it's me in ways other than the security questions; I mean, how many people can do _this?_"

Teddy squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched up his mouth in deep concentration; his skin faded slowly from dark to light and his hair lengthened and shifted to a vivid turquoise color. His nose and jaw line shifted and he shrank in height and breadth until he was the Teddy that they all remembered. So he wasn't under Polyjuice—he was just using his Metamorphmagus abilities. Albus had heard tell that Teddy was one of the most talented Metamorphmagi ever to walk the earth, and he knew that Teddy had been practicing, but it was still phenomenally impressive. Teddy could mimic the looks of someone else with absolute perfection, after his three years of Auror training, and spent the dinner transforming himself into each of his cousins. Maybe it was because no one had ever really been _trained_ in being a Metamorphmagus before; or maybe it was the fact that Teddy had been trained to extreme lengths like never before, so much that Victoire hadn't been able to see him more than a couple times since last Easter; but Teddy's ability to mimic was so powerful that it made Albus very glad he was on their side.

The Potters returned to their house at Furlong's Notch after the feast; Albus's stomach was so full with his grandmother's amazing cooking that he fell right to sleep, and when he woke up, it was Christmas.

He unwrapped all of his usual presents—books from Aunt Hermione, prank equipment from Uncle George, candy from his friends—but was surprised twice. The first surprise was some remarkably not-goofy dress robes which he would not be embarrassed to wear to the Yule Ball with Janelle. He thanked his parents profusely.

The second time was when he received a really nice necklace from Uncle Charlie, made from a feather from a young phoenix, which glowed in sunlight like fire. It also came with a very small vial of phoenix ash, made from the burning body of a dying phoenix. This was slightly disgusting to Albus, but according to ancient wizarding tradition, if a person blew the ashes to the wind and made a wish, that wish would come true.

"Phoenix ash is incredibly rare," said Ginny, who apparently had foreknowledge of this Christmas present; James and Lily had also both received feathers and a tiny bit of phoenix ash. "The only place I know where you can find it, if you don't have a domesticated phoenix, is also the only place humans can reach to find wild phoenixes—Mount Solaeris in India. Charlie went up there this summer to study the magnificent creatures."

"Did he domesticate a phoenix?" asked James ecstatically.

Ginny laughed. "No, it's extremely hard to domesticate a phoenix. It's only ever been done a handful of times."

"I wonder where Fawkes is now," asked Harry wistfully.

"Charlie says that it's really hard to find full-size phoenix feathers there," continued Ginny, "because wandmakers hire climbers to collect any of the fallen feathers that they can find for use in wands. But the smaller feathers are harder to find and they're not as valuable, so they're for enthusiasts like Charlie find them. And the necklaces have another function—if you rub the feather against something flammable, it'll catch fire."

Albus stroked the soft feather. It was warm to his touch.

"Are you trying to set your finger on fire?" asked James, laughing at Albus's gentle caresses of the small feather.

"It won't set a person on fire," said Ginny. "Even the feathers are almost sentient, they know when their owner is holding them. Oh, and Charlie asked me to mention to you guys—you have to use the phoenix ash within one day of having it gifted to you, or your wish won't come true. Why don't you do that now?"

It was almost noon, and the sun was high in the sky. Albus stepped onto the back porch with James and Lily. Idly he wondered for what they were wishing, but he knew he shouldn't ask, and they weren't asking him.

Initially, he thought about asking the ash to make sure that things worked out between him and Janelle, but it seemed selfish. He also considered wishing for his magic to be fixed. In the end, though, he decided on something much more important.

_I want everything in the world to turn out okay,_ he thought as he uncapped the vial and tossed the ash out to the wind. _I hope that anyone who wants to do harm to good people… will be stopped._

The wind carried the ash away, whispering something that sounded almost like "_Yes…_"

* * *

_**Yep. Sorry. Holly/Albus is over. Even if you're mad at me for breaking them up, don't make your judgments on Janelle yet until the next chapter, you hardly know her!**_

_**This chapter was slightly slower since it was mostly just conversations and mail between characters. The plot returns with a vengeance by the end of next chapter, though, so stay tuned!**_

_**Questions from last chapter's reviews:**_

_**blitzer99: Question, seeing as Al is so good at doing wandless fire magic, does that mean he could be really bad at wandless water magic? And is it possible for people to be really skilled in one type of wandless magic (like fire) would that mean that any spell that uses fire doesn't need to be used with a wand? One last question, seeing as there are magical pressure points in the body like normal pressure points, does that mean if someone were to target a specific magic point in the body blocked it somehow, how would that effect the person? Answer: Fire and water aren't so much opposites in my elemental structure. Fire and electricity are the elements of power, while land, sea, and sky are called the "Natural Elements." People will often find themselves allied with one element and not so much the others, though, so Albus is really skilled in fire magic, both with and without wands. However, *summoning* flame and *casting a spell involving* flame are two entirely different things. Albus cannot do any wandless spells yet. A wandless SPELL, rather than just firing off energy, is a ridiculously difficult task. As for your last question... You've hit dead center on a very interesting topic... :) Yep, in much the same way that you can "knock the wind" out of a person, you can "knock the magic" out of a wizard. I'll be explaining that sort of thing in the future of this series, because it's extremely important for the Sandbloods. If it reminds you of the Equalist Chi-Blockers from The Legend of Korra, that's because that's where Andy got the idea!**_

_**Guest Shaboton: I'm not sure, but shouldn't Aunt Fleur be Fleur Weasley rather than Delacour? Answer: Yes. And I've always referred to her as Fleur Weasley, but Janelle and most of the Beauxbatons community would remember her as Fleur Delacour, so they might call her that.**_

_**Guest: If Albus's wand has a problem how come Exo's wand works better? Answer: No one knows! Luna will have some theories when she writes back, though.**_

_**PercyPotter36: Don't Disillusionment Charms wear off after some time? They're supposed to run out even faster when the caster is thinking, and Donna was thinking nonstop! Answer: Disillusionment Charms do run out, but not in the span of a half hour, I wouldn't think. The thing about "when the caster is thinking," I don't remember reading that and it isn't on the Harry Potter Wiki site, but if that's an actual thing, let me know because that's intriguing.**_

_**The Fantasy Spinner: Is Janelle part Veela? Answer: Nope.**_

_**Other things that were mentioned more than once:**_

_**"Mask" is not someone from JK's original series, but I have already introduced you to him in the course of this third book! Do you remember?**_

_**The next task will be a topic of discussion until it is played out, but you won't find out what the task is until it happens.**_

_**I live in Massachusetts. :)**_


	10. Warmer than Butterbeer

_**Questions from last chapter's reviews:**_

_**Riverflower: Have you ever written a full story before? Have you ever written your own, that were not fanfiction? Answer: None that I've finished. I usually stuck with short stories, it was always really hard for me to conceive a plot for a full story. That's why I was so happy to get this plot idea from Andy! I have a tough time with a plot for a novel-length feature.**_

_**Monkeywoman14: What's going on with Eftan? Answer: We'll be checking back up on Eftan soon enough.**_

_**Bakkasama: Is Albus's affinity for fire a wink to the scene in HBP in which Dumbledore sets Tom's wardrobe on fire? I don't remember if it was done wandlessly in the book (I think not) but it was in the movie and I reckon it was something like Albus's talent at potions. Answer: Interesting thought, but the choice was due to the fact that fire is a dramatic element for a child to be handling.**_

**_Guest: _****_How does someone become a Squib? Does it have anything to do with the magical pressure points you were talking about? Answer: You're born that way. Or bitten by a mulunctapol. If you're bitten by a mulunctapol, your magic is gone-there's no getting it back and there's no in between; it's gone completely and for good._**

* * *

**_And HOLY MERLIN 96 followers! I seriously didn't think it would be up that far. 4 more and I'll make good on my promise! I said 100 followers AND 100 favorites in the first chapter but I never thought either would happen, so, I'll do it if we get to 100 on either :) THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!_**

* * *

CHAPTER TEN

WARMER THAN BUTTERBEER

O

Just as the phoenix ash disappeared from his sight, there was a loud humming and the rev of an engine. Lily looked up, terrified, as a car dropped out of the sky, headed straight for them; Albus gently laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "No, it's all right—I think that's Dad's friend, Mrs. Dane. She's come to take me to the Ball."

James snorted; Albus rolled his eyes. "Not take me to the Ball as her date," he revised, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"Is Lyman going to the Yule Ball?" asked James.

"Yeah, that's why Mrs. Dane offered to drive me, too—she was already bringing her son."

"Have fun during the car trip," chuckled James. "Lyman is the single most irritating individual I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

Albus grimaced.

The car landed in their back lawn; Albus saw Mr. Dempsey at his window the next house over, gawking right before shaking his head and closing the shutters. The Dempseys had never been the biggest fans of their neighbors possessing magic. Harry appeared behind them and extracted his wand, presumably to check Theela's identity.

Theela Dane, a tall woman with a large, square jaw and large, square shoulders, tossed back her long black hair as she exited the car. Lyman Dane followed her; Albus recognized him from the Dueling Tournament last year—he'd beaten out Roxanne for the spot but lost to Gabriella Garland's sister. He looked overly confident with black hair and dark brown eyes and a smug swagger. Maybe it was a biased evaluation due to what James had just said to him, but Lyman didn't look like the type of friend Albus would have liked to have.

"The first person your husband kissed," said Harry in a bored tone.

"My sister," said Theela. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Good afternoon, Theela."

"Hey, what's up, James?" asked Lyman.

"Your self confidence," muttered James as he waved. "A bit too far up, if you ask me."

"Albus, how do you do, I'm Lyman!"

Lyman shook Albus's hand when he got to the porch. "I'm fine, how're you?" asked Albus.

"I'm doing great!" said Lyman. "I just did extremely well on a practical Charms exam, I can do the Bubble-Head Charm quite ridiculously well now, if I do say so myself, would you like to see?"

Albus was spared having to say "no" when his father started up a conversation with Lyman about his classes. Within ten seconds, Harry looked like he really regretted beginning this conversation, as all Lyman could talk about was his impeccable Bubble-Head Charm.

"—and it was perfectly circular, so round that you couldn't see the slightest imperfection, and Professor Plinky gave me full marks," finished Lyman.

"That's… spectacular," said Harry. "I assume you have to leave fairly quickly to ensure getting to Hogwarts in time for the five o'clock train?"

"Yes, that would be best," said Theela. "Don't worry—I'll return your son to you in one piece."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "I was going to ask about that. All right, Albus, have—oh! You need your dress robes!"

As his father ran inside, Lyman began bragging about the dress robes that he picked out himself. Even his mother seemed to be fed up with his incessant talking.

Harry ran back out with the dress robes, then used his wand to create a box into which he stuffed the robes. "No sense making you change into these until you're there," said Harry. "Have an excellent time! Say hello to Janelle for me."

"I will," said Albus. "Bye, Dad. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Mum!"

"Have fun!" called his mother, who had just appeared at the door. "Merry Christmas!" She ushered her husband and other children inside so that she could close the door to conserve the heat; she waved to Albus after the door was closed as Albus closed the car door behind him and they took off.

"I was quite excited when they legalized flying cars after the global revelation," said Theela. "They're so convenient. Look like a Muggle, blend in with Muggles, until you need to prove yourself above them, so to speak."

She said it bitingly; Albus wondered what this was about.

He got what he assumed was an answer, though, after a few minutes of the car ride. Lyman was like a radio that wouldn't turn off. He chattered away the entire trip. The car was riding at a steady one hundred miles per hour, much faster than his family's flying car, but it still took four hours to arrive at Hogwarts castle, and that meant four long hours of Lyman's voice dictating how it was viciously unfair that Albus's year was the only year in Hogwarts currently allowed to take the A.R.M. program and that if he had been in the program he would have been the top in his year, followed by personal anecdotes of his classroom experiences to ensure that Albus knew he wasn't joking about how intelligent he was.

"By the way, I hear _you've,_ ah, _stopped_ being intelligent," he said to Albus curiously. "What's that all about, hah?"

Albus's eye twitched and he was extremely grateful when Theela then announced that Hogwarts was in sight and that they would be landing soon.

"You didn't answer my question," called Lyman as Albus immediately lifted himself out of the car after they touched ground.

There were no other third year students there, so Albus joined the only one of his cousins who was attending the Yule Ball—Molly—and sat with her friends in their compartment. Among them was Peggy Sanford, the girl whom Albus had heard called "Preggy" on their first trip to Beauxbatons. She was very obviously pregnant, but she looked proud of her child this time instead of distressed about how people were treating her because of her somewhat early pregnancy.

"Good for you, Albus," said Molly. "I talked with Janelle a bit after you left the waiting room the day of the first task. She was very sweet."

"Albus is going out with Donna's sister?" asked Rona, giggling.

"She wrote to him on a whim and asked him to the Ball, I guess," said Molly. "They were talking at the first task."

They quickly grew bored of discussing Albus, however, and the conversation turned to possible names that Peggy was considering for her son.

Rona's date was a tall, ginger seventh year named Cameron Luck. Molly's was Dyson Stenet, but he was to meet them at Beauxbatons, as he had graduated from Hogwarts last year. Peggy and Gabriella both also had dates. Albus was the only one in the compartment without a date, and he felt very awkward (as well as squished) throughout the train ride, and he was looking forward to the end of the ride almost as much as he had looked forward to exiting the car with the Danes.

But before they had gone more than ten minutes, the door opened and Professor Desulgon stuck his head in, asking if anyone needed dancing instruction.

Molly gave Albus one look and then shoved him out of the compartment.

"Albus!" said Professor Desulgon, looking rather surprised to see him. He looked back into the compartment, searching for Albus's date.

"I'm meeting someone at Beauxbatons," said Albus to put his teacher's mind at ease that he wasn't dating a seventh year.

"I must have missed this piece of gossip," said Professor Desulgon. "Last I noticed you were very close to Holly?"

"Er."

"Never mind." Professor Desulgon stuck his head into the next compartment and asked. "I shouldn't be prying anyway," he said once he'd pulled his head out and several other boys exited who looked vaguely familiar. "Head to the very back of the Express, everyone, we'll be learning to move our cabooses in the caboose. I'll be there once I've gotten some more cabooses off their seats."

Albus was stuck with two unwholesome-looking Slytherin fourth year boys named Ross Delle-Smith and Darren Randall, who looked like to attack him at any moment, until a couple of Ravenclaw couples walked in, for which he was glad. A nervous-looking Hufflepuff fourth year named Claire Fischer walked in last and then Professor Desulgon followed, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, everybody pair up," said Professor Desulgon immediately, clasping his hands together.

Claire smashed into Albus so quickly that she almost knocked him over, grabbing his arm to claim him immediately, as if there was someone else who wanted to pair up with him. The Ravenclaw duos obviously chose each other, and the two fourth year Slytherin boys begrudgingly coupled up.

Professor Desulgon then Conjured a mannequin in the air which he Charmed into dancing with him. The rest of the group followed, and Albus, absolutely terrified that he would step on Claire's and Janelle's feet, began to learn how to dance.

"You know, Muggles have dancing competitions," said Professor Desulgon as he continued to step naturally in rhythm to demonstrate. "Millions of people watch these competitions—they're televised. It's an international phenomenon much of the time."

"That's because Muggles are idiots," snapped Darren, who was constantly fighting with Ross over who would be assuming the male movements in their pair.

"Excuse me," said Professor Desulgon sternly. "We don't say things like that—ever—and there might be some people with Muggle parents around right now."

"People with Muggle parents shouldn't _be_ around," muttered Ross just loud enough for everyone but Professor Desulgon to hear.

Now Albus realized where he had seen Ross and Randall before—they were often in the company of the pure-blood bigot fourth year Red Pierce, and Albus had grown to dislike them by sight through association. His feelings were accurate.

After over an hour of painful dance lessons, Albus was competent enough to keep pace through all of the different steps and not look like an idiot, which he supposed was good for now. He hoped Janelle wasn't an impeccable dancer, or she was going to show him up something awful.

There was a knock on the door, and Professor Longbottom opened it. "We'll be arriving in ten minutes," he said. "Get into your dress robes, everyone, because it'll be straight to the Ball when we arrive. There will be food all around if you're hungry… Oh! Hello, Albus!"

He looked in pleasant surprise just as Professor Desulgon had done. He nodded and smiled and then mostly closed the door as he left.

"I think that this is where I leave you," said Professor Desulgon. "You're all fair enough dancers to not embarrass Hogwarts. Good luck to all!"

Albus pulled on his dress robes in an empty compartment and then sat next to Molly the rest of the trip feeling queasy.

Every eye was going to be on him at some point… he was dancing with the sister of one of the champions, and they were a pair from different schools. He and Janelle would probably be the spotlight for a while, even. Why did he ever agree to this? He was going to make a fool out of himself, and not only in front of one school but _three._

Molly picked up on his tension and started rubbing his back. "There, there," she said. "You'll do fine. Just don't think about it too much and you'll be brilliant."

Albus sighed and tried to clear his mind. It wasn't working; the more he tried to clear it, the more worries filled the gaps he left.

When the train finally screeched to a stop, and the flying carriages carted them the rest of the way to Beauxbatons, Albus realized he was sweating a lot, and whimpered at the fact that he was going to stain the armpits of his dress robes and look like an idiot.

"Oh, Albus," laughed Molly as the carriages started to descend towards the floating palace of Beauxbatons. "You're all sweaty… You're so nervous, just calm down, it'll all turn out fine!" She took out her wand. "Here—_Laxlans._"

Albus felt himself stop sweating immediately, and then Molly nonverbally cleared him up of the sweat that was already out.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Don't mention it. And don't sweat it!"

Albus sighed loudly and let Molly rub his back again.

As they landed and entered the castle again, Essa Raelle, the spirit who had greeted them the first time, escorted them to the ball. When they arrived, Albus noted her request a dance from Professor Desulgon, who blushed and graciously accepted the offer.

"Albus!"

Janelle burst from the crowd of students who were already in the large hall to which they were being escorted.

Her dress was a beautiful deep green with two streams of red diagonally down from the waist; red and green streamers billowed down from her beautiful, shining black hair, which was tied back in a neat and complicated bun with one strand hanging down on the left side of her head and one strand in a neat spiral resting above her ear on the right side of her head. A black bow around her waist sealed the look. She looked lovely—stunning—incredible—but extremely upset.

"What's going on?" asked Albus as Wilcox ran into the room ahead, muttering "No… no…_ no_… this is _exactly_ what we did not want to happen this year…"

Janelle pointed back into the room. "The… the ball is… very tense right now," she said shakily. "Professor Vintervolff and Madame Maxime are… having a slight disagreement."

Albus couldn't look anywhere except for Janelle, until Madame Maxime's booming voice barreled through the entry to the hall.

"WHEN AN EVENT OF ZIS NATURE OCCURS, I ASSURE YOU, WE AT BEAUXBATONS 'AVE A BACK-UP PLAN SO ZAT EXACTLY ZIS SITUATION DOES NOT MANIFEST EETSELF!"

"VE DID NOT EXPECT ANYTHING LIKE THIS TO HAPPEN!" bellowed Professor Vintervolff back at her. "NONE VERE EXPECTING IT! I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS SITUATION, BUT THERE VOS NOTHING VE COULD DO—THE CONTROVERSY VOS IMMINENT AND VE OPTED TO—"

"_STOP SHOUTING, THE BOTH OF YOU!_" exploded Professor Wilcox, louder than Albus had ever heard him.

The three heads of their respective schools began a quieter discussion, and rumors and gossip immediately started flying around the crowd.

"Do _you_ know what happened?" asked Albus to his date.

Janelle bit her lower lip. "Caspar Engodska—the Durmstrang champion? He didn't show up."

"He's not here?" reiterated Albus incredulously. "Why?"

"Maybe he doesn't like to dance," said Janelle, shrugging. "They were thinking of… of calling it off. But I spent so much time getting ready… and I made you come all the way out here…"

"They wouldn't call it off," said Albus confidently. "Someone probably just said that when they were in the heated discussion but they wouldn't have meant it."

"I hope not," said Janelle, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. Some of her makeup smeared slightly under her eye.

"Oh," said Albus apologetically. "Your… er…"

"Goodness," muttered Janelle, looking at the small black smudge on her hand. "Well, this is enchanted make-up; it will fix as soon as I stop crying like a stupid little girl." She smiled softly. "Thank you for coming, Albus."

"You're welcome," said Albus. "And don't worry, it's not stupid to cry. You must have spent a really long time getting ready to look so good, so it's okay to be disappointed."

Janelle seemed very surprised to receive the compliment, but she recovered quickly and smiled wider; her face was infinitely more beautiful with a smile.

Wilcox walked out to the Hogwarts group, which was still together, and waved everyone closer.

"Listen, everyone," he said sternly. "Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff are… not in the best of moods. Don't cause any trouble tonight or I will have you serving detentions until the end of the year and I will take one hundred points from your house and I will kill you. …Seriously, though, don't antagonize them tonight."

"What's going on?" asked Ross Delle-Smith.

"Durmstrang champion Caspar Engodska… has refused to attend the Yule Ball," said Professor Wilcox, glancing over to Albus and Janelle for a moment with a raised eyebrow before scanning the rest of the crowd.

"He boycotted the Ball?" asked Rona, mouth hanging open.

"Yes, for reasons undisclosed," said Professor Wilcox. "Professor Vintervolff admits that he handled the situation rather terribly, and unfortunately, Caspar will not be joining us. Rona, you and Donna alone will have to open the dance with your partners. We won't be replacing Caspar. I don't think the situation can be fixed in time for the Ball to begin, so we'll have to make do with two champions. The whole thing is a bit of a disaster, but please roll with it and act like you're very impressed with how everything turned out just so that Madame Maxime doesn't get any more… er… emotional. She worked very hard for this to happen and now that it's falling apart a bit… so is she." Wilcox heaved a sigh. "But don't tell her I said that! Just, for me, for today, act like everything's perfectly normal. Thank you."

"I wonder what happened," said Albus.

What reasons would Caspar have had to boycott the Yule Ball?

"Is the Triwizard Tournament still all going to happen?"

"Of course it is, it's a binding magical contract," said Wilcox. "And I don't think Caspar's boycotting the Tournament. Just this ball. Rona—if you would go get ready. Thank you for bearing with us, everyone. Remember—don't mention Caspar, please."

Albus held out his hand. Janelle took it happily, and he led her with the Hogwarts group to sit in wait until the two remaining champions opened the Ball.

Rona, with her somewhat homely-looking date Cameron, and Donna, with a boy who looked like he could have been a male model, began the dances with pleasure. The couples were a sharp contrast to each other. Donna and her date were one of the most attractive couples Albus had ever seen; Rona was a very nerdy-looking girl and Cameron wasn't unattractive but awkward.

When everybody else got up to dance, Albus knew that it was time to test his new skills. He held out his hand to his date. Janelle, whose make-up had indeed somehow been completely fixed, took his hand and they started to dance.

A great many eyes were indeed upon them, as Albus had expected. Unlike what he had expected, though, he was doing very well for himself. Even as he heard the whispers of people pointing out the third year couple, Harry Potter's son dancing with the Beauxbatons champion's sister, he was finding it remarkably easy to step in time with Janelle. She was his height, which was strange after he'd been around Holly for so long; she was a head shorter.

"You are very good," said Janelle appreciatively as they walked towards the punch bowl afterwards. "Have you taken lessons? Or are you just a natural?"

"Neither," laughed Albus. "I had my first lesson an hour ago, I think I'm just lucky for not screwing up."

"Nonsense," said Janelle as Albus handed her a cup of punch. "Say, would you like to take a walk around the palace?"

"Of course," said Albus gladly. "Now?"

"Why not?" said Janelle. "We can come back and dance more later… The Ball is four hours long."

"I'd love to," said Albus, and he took Janelle's hand to let her guide him around the castle.

They visited the third year dormitories, the places where Janelle had her classes, and the research rooms located throughout Beauxbatons for student use. Some of them were actually occupied, even on Christmas night; according to Janelle, some of the older students were required to do research projects that took a lot of time, and they needed the Christmas holidays to complete the projects. Arithmancers and Herbologists alike studied, eyeing Albus and Janelle in their fancy clothes enviously.

While they walked, Janelle talked about herself a lot; Albus was fascinated by her story.

"Nobody ever expected much from me or my sister," said Janelle. "Our parents were both Squibs."

Albus gave a small hum of surprise. Not that he didn't think a Triwizard champion could come from a Squib family; he just hadn't thought about her parentage.

"We grew up in the way that Muggles grew up, washing dishes and cooking and everything without magic. But, there are many Muggle-born witches and wizards who become great—perhaps more than the so-called 'pure-bloods', because of the desire in these situations to prove yourself—and my sister and I were exposed to the magical world before coming to Beauxbatons, so we were no less likely to succeed, I should think. Why would being the daughter of Squibs make any difference—why would people think that we would have any less magic than anyone else? But we still faced a lot of teasing from our classmates."

"That's terrible," pouted Albus, frowning. "How is this sort of bullying still a problem in today's world?"

"I… am not sure," said Janelle, shaking her head. "But it happened. I learned to deal with it. Donna took it much worse than I did in her first few years. I watched her come home in tears in her first year from something somebody said after her exams had finished, and I told myself that I would never let words affect me outwardly. It always hurts on the inside, but when I act like I am not hurt, the insults do not come as often. Donna helped me to learn that, but she had to learn that on her own. She has obviously turned out just fine, though," finished Janelle with a grin, "representing Beauxbatons in the Triwizard Tournament." She glanced over at Albus. "Perhaps you and I will face off against each other in our seventh year, representing our home schools. The Tournament is to be held every four years rather than every five, in its revival."

"Oh," said Albus. "Maybe we will."

"What is it, that I was saying?" pondered Janelle aloud, biting her lower lip. "Oh—my sister. Donna is the strongest person I know. When none have any expectations for your success, telling you that you cannot succeed, I think that succeeding is the hardest task one can face. Harder than any Triwizard Tournament task."

"I don't know," stated Albus, and Janelle blinked up at him. "I mean—you and I are like opposites, almost. I'm Harry Potter's son… Everybody expected everything out of me. I don't know how my brother brushes it off. He gets average grades even though I think he's smarter than he lets on. But I guess that made the expectations for me even higher, somehow. And when you're always afraid of disappointing everyone, it can be really hard. I guess it's probably equally hard when people tell you that you won't succeed, just in a different way. Your self-confidence must have taken a hit… For me, I was always afraid of disappointing everyone, and it's been really hard lately, dealing with the fact that I can't live up to expectations."

"Why? What happened?"

"My magic isn't as powerful as it used to be. I don't know why. Everyone's telling me that it's because of trauma from a lot of death that I witnessed. I don't think that's right. Whatever it is, though, it's killing my scores in the practical portions of my classes."

"Oh!" exclaimed Janelle. "Is that why, in our class, you chose not to perform your Transformation—ah, sorry—English schools call it Transfiguration?"

"That's right," said Albus. "It's been this way for an entire term. I'm worried at this point that I'll never get fixed."

"I hope you get better. Have you been examined?"

"Yeah, several times. They can't figure me out."

"I very much understand what you were saying before," said Janelle. "I suppose I never really thought about how hard it must be for you when the world is expecting you to live up to your father's name."

"And I never thought about how hard my schooling would have been, if everyone had been telling me that I wouldn't do anything special," replied Albus.

They exchanged a long glance.

Janelle looked away shyly and blushed.

Albus very badly wanted to kiss her already. He just wanted to know what it would feel like—would it be different from his kiss with Holly? If so, how much? And was it okay to kiss her on the third time they'd met, only the first time that they'd really spent any time together? He'd known Holly for two and a half years before he kissed her.

And did Janelle want to kiss him back?

They went back to the dance shortly after, and danced to a couple more songs. Albus didn't exactly want to, but he could tell that Janelle did.

Molly's spell was still apparently in effect, because Albus felt very warm, but he wasn't sweating. Janelle looked slightly shiny, though, as she took her seat, wiping her forehead.

"Thank you very much," said Janelle, eyeing him shrewdly.

"For dancing with you?" asked Albus. "I enjoyed it, too."

"Not that much, I could tell," she said. "But you still danced because I wanted to."

"Oh. Well, maybe."

"That was really kind of you."

Albus grinned, abashed. "Well, I wouldn't be here if you hadn't invited me, so it was the least I could do."

Janelle pushed back a strand of hair and smoothed out her dress a little, then picked at her fingernails nervously.

Albus had seen this before—Holly had done this same sort of preening many times when they were studying alone together, and it had escalated to its highest right before she had kissed him. Some things were the same even across the borders of countries…

Nervously, Albus glanced around. There were few people nearby and no one watching.

He leaned over to Janelle and, using his best guesses as to how this was done properly, he touched his lips to hers.

She gave a little gasp and opened her mouth slightly, and his lips slid in snugly around hers; she closed her lips again and then he opened and closed his ever so slightly in response. Instantly, he was flooded with a remarkable feeling. It was warmer than drinking butterbeer and more exhilarating than flying. He thought wildly for a second about when he should stop, but he felt so happy that he didn't really want to, and maybe that was the point.

He had absolutely zero sense of time, but after what was probably somewhere between five seconds and five hours, he leaned slightly back.

Janelle's exuberant gaze locked with his. She was glowing, but not like his part-Veela cousins glowed. She was simply glowing because she was clearly the happiest person that Albus had ever seen. And Albus had almost never been happier.

There was no longer a question of whom he would rather kiss.

Janelle sat with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his for a while, watching the better dancers on the floor. Molly was one of them. With such an uptight father, she'd always been learning to let loose in any way she could; at one point she'd even enrolled in a Muggle dance class, one that her mother used to attend, and won a competition. She was certainly letting her hair down now as she and her equally talented boyfriend tore up the floor.

Madame Maxime and Professor Vintervolff seemed to have calmed down as well, and Janelle pointed out close to the end of the Ball that they appeared to be apologizing to each other, which was a good sign. After all, Wilcox had put so much emphasis on how the Triwizard Tournament was being brought back to bring everyone together in troubled times, not cause more trouble. Caspar, however, was still absent from the festivities.

Albus spent a while admiring the magnificent non-melting ice sculptures all around the beautifully decked hall as the music slowed and more and more couples sat down, talking or else snuggling with each other.

"Do you know anything about the second task?" asked Albus, trying to find topics for conversation.

Janelle smiled. "No. No student is supposed to know. The golden gems apparently house a clue for the next task, but we have yet to figure them out."

"Only the golden gems?"

"That's right."

"That's like the golden egg," noted Albus. "They both have clues."

Janelle raised a brow. "I'm not familiar with what happened there."

"My dad had to collect a golden egg for his first task," explained Albus. "When he held it underwater it sang a song about the next task. Though I doubt they would do the same solution to the hint two Tournaments in a row… and the element for the next task should be Sky, not Sea, so…"

"So maybe take the gem for a fly rather than a swim?" proposed Janelle.

Albus cringed as he realized the person with whom he was holding this conversation. Had he just slipped the sister of the Beauxbatons champion a critical hint?

"Hey, it's the last dance," said Janelle, taking his mind off of the mistake. "Shall we?"

She held out her hand, which Albus immediately took; they stood and danced to the last song, a very slow tune to French lyrics. Albus didn't understand them, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

When the song had finished, most of the couples on the floor leaned in for a kiss, however quick, and Albus got the feeling that he should do the same. He shifted himself forward and sifted his fingers over her hair as he leaned in for another kiss, and he felt like his blood was made of butterbeer. His mouth curled into a smile, as did Janelle's; he could feel it. He almost laughed at the thought of how nervous he had been before arriving; now, he never wanted to leave.

O

As soon as the train started going, Molly stood up and closed the door to their compartment. She sat back down, and her eyes glinted gleefully.

"I noticed you kissed Janelle," she said.

All the other girls in the compartment gave a little cheer and congratulations; Albus was struck with the urge to leap out the window. He shrunk into his shoulders and nodded uncomfortably.

"What? It's not a bad thing!" exclaimed Molly. "I saw how happy you were! She was, too. You two are such a cute couple; are you going to continue to see each other?"

"We said we'd write," said Albus in the lowest possible volume.

"Good," affirmed Molly contentedly. "What did you two talk about?"

"Er. Our families," said Albus. "And the tournament—oh! Rona!"

Rona looked at him quizzically; a moment before, he had been very withdrawn, but now he was addressing her excitedly. "Yes?" she asked.

"I thought about something," said Albus. "About the golden gem—have you figured out the clue?"

"I haven't," she said, surprised. "Have you?"

"Er. Maybe," said Albus, and the seventh years all exchanged glances. "Well, I have an idea that might work—probably might—but might or might not—er—you know how there was the golden egg in the last tournament?"

"I remember your father telling us that," said Molly; Rona nodded.

"And that he had to bathe it to understand the clue?"

Rona tilted her head and gestured for him to go on.

"I was thinking," said Albus. "The golden egg had to be taken underwater. So maybe—maybe the golden gems need to be taken up high into the sky? The next task should based on the sky, shouldn't it?"

Rona's face settled into an impressed grin. "It is indeed based on sky next," she said. "Albus Potter… you may be onto something here." She punched Molly's arm. "You've got a smart little cousin there!"

Molly beamed. "You are a genius, Albus," she said happily. "If that works, Rona owes you at least a third of the prize money when she wins!"

_No, she doesn't,_ thought Albus guiltily, _because then Donna will get it, too._

He looked out the window glumly, but his bad mood could not stay for very long when he remembered the kiss he'd shared with Janelle.

Reminding himself to try his Patronus as soon as possible, he mulled over his good mood all the way back to Hogwarts, where Theela was waiting with the Danes' flying car. She picked him up with Lyman to drop Albus off at Furlong's Notch.

Albus climbed into the car, and even Lyman's incessant descriptions of his perfect dance moves could not dissipate his good mood.

Or, at least, that was what he thought. He would have loved to get some sleep, as it was well past midnight, and he knew that they wouldn't be back until we would normally be waking up. But Lyman had no sense of the hour of the night, nor of how tired his companions were. Theela's eye had started twitching, and she was glancing back at him with more loathing than Albus ever thought a parent could have for their child.

"I heard you got some action tonight, eh, Albus?" said Lyman when the trip was nearly over, elbowing Albus just as he was about to fall asleep. Albus grunted and rubbed his eyes. "Kissed a girl? That your first? I've kissed ten girls."

"Lyman," said Theela, plainly exhausted. "I'm fed up with listening to you. We're almost there. Please shut up, for your own good."

Albus laughed slightly. The lack of rest was getting to Lyman's mother. Lyman ignored her and continued. Didn't this kid ever need to sleep?

"You probably don't really know about sex yet, do you? Probably not. I won't go on about my girlfriends, then. You know, I was wondering about getting lucky tonight, but by the time I thought about it…"

"Lyman…"

"Yeah, it was too late, so we just grabbed an empty room to make out for a bit. She was really hot. Did you see my date? I love her figure. She loves me even more than I love her, but then again, what's not to like? I probably wouldn't be able to resist me either."

"Lyman."

"You're lucky that Janelle girl of yours didn't meet me first, she probably wouldn't have paid much attention to you if she had!"

"LYMAN."

"Yeah Mum? Oh—wait. I almost forgot to tell you! I pulled off the coolest dance move today, it was right when everyone was watching, too. Everyone always stops to watch when I do something cool, it's like they know what I'm about to do—"

"LYMAN!"

"Just a sec, Mum—So I was standing with my girl and then I sort of flipped her, like this—" he made an arm motion that made absolutely no sense in a dancing context— "and she twirled around and then I whipped her back and she fell right on my arm again and then I sort of stumbled but it didn't look like a stumble, probably because I'm a natural, I must've been doing some epic dance move without realizing it—and I almost tripped over her but instead I jumped over her legs and slid my other arm under her and caught her again, and then pecked her on the cheek with a kiss, it was so amazing—"

"LYMAN, I SWEAR TO MERLIN—"

"Hold on a moment, let me finish my story—"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

A flash of green filled the car with the rushing sound of nightmares.

Lyman's tiny brain processed for the slightest moment what his mother had just shouted, and then he seized up and smashed limp against the back of his seat; his head sank to the side, with wide and lifeless eyes staring directly at Albus.

Albus suddenly found it impossible to breathe. He stared at the boy sitting across from him—did that just happen? Was that what he thought had just happened?

Lyman sank a little farther in his seat, and all weariness fled Albus's eyes; he looked up at Theela in the front in sheer panic.

"Doesn't matter, everything's finally coming together," said Theela casually. "I can drop the pretenses. _Imperio._"

Her wand was now directed towards Albus. He didn't have time to scream as the spell struck him; his eyes screwed up in his head for a moment, and then he relaxed.

A sensation much, much warmer than drinking butterbeer, warmer even than his kiss with Janelle, flooded his veins, overcoming all of his senses and all of his fears. If he had thought that he'd never been happier, he was wrong. This was unparalleled bliss.

He smiled softly and closed his eyes, feeling a deep calm like never before.

_Say it._

A voice echoed in the back of his head, a tender suggestion infinitely more persuasive than the harshest demand.

_Say, "Beware the Sandblood Rising."_

"Beware the Sandblood Rising," said Albus pleasantly, as the car gently rolled to a stop on his back lawn.


	11. The Sandblood Rising

_**We hit 100 followers! So I'll be doing twice weekly uploads, Wednesdays and Saturdays, until the end of this book. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Also, we hit 300 reviews! I love you guys! I've now put a link on my author's page to a picture of the cover art for book 4 where the name for the book is also revealed. But don't stop reviewing just because we hit 300! This book is almost on the first page when you sort all of the Albus Potter stories by review. Can we get it to the front page?!**_

_**But don't be too relieved just yet about the resolution of that cliffhanger... you're probably going to hate me even more after this chapter... :)**_

_**Wizard of night asked, Are Peggy and her baby going to grow in importance? Answer: Maybe. I like to put a lot of different things into the story so that if I ever need an idea to draw on, there are a lot from which I can choose. So she might be relevant in the future. Same goes for a lot of stuff like that.**_

_**From anothersignalman: 1. Would a spell like Imperio work on a wand? 2. Are Lyman and/or Theela going to get character profiles on your main page? Have you thought about reproducing the character profiles in story format (say, one chapter per book), which would free up your homepage for announcements/etc? Answer: 1. Haven't really thought about that... That's a very interesting idea. Maybe! 2. Probably not... I don't want to put too many character profiles on my author page, because I don't want too many spoilers there. And doing character blurbs will give me even more work to do. So, maybe, but only in between books, I think.**_

_**From PotterfanDJM: Speaking of MM, if the Sandbloods were to use it on a wizard/witch, how does it work? Like Imperio, and they just think of what they want said person to do, or do they have to somewhat share a conscience with the person? If so, would they really be able to force someone to do magic if they themselves don't really know how to cast a spell anyway? Answer: You'll find out that sort of thing in this book!**_

_**Anyway, let's go!**_

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE SANDBLOOD RISING

O

_Get out of the car._

Albus obeyed the voice in the back of his unquestioningly. He lifted himself from his seat, climbed over Lyman's corpse to open the car door closer to his house, and exited the vehicle.

_Take out your wand. Hold it discreetly._

_Why?_ thought Albus back for the briefest of moments. _I don't need my wand right now. Why would I need it?_

_Albus Potter, take out your wand. Now._

He did so.

_Hold it more subtly._

He slid his wand further up in his sleeve.

_Good. Come into the house._

Albus followed Theela Dane to the house. She rapped on the door loudly.

"Harry? Your son is home!"

_Call to your parents._

"Hi, Dad!" yelled Albus. "Hi, Mum!"

"Albus!" called Harry from his room upstairs. "I'll be down in a minute."

Harry appeared at the other side of glass door, his wand outstretched.

"Wotcher, Theela," he said. "What was your nickname during Auror training?"

"The Great Dane," she replied. "I hate to be a burden, but I'm starving… You wouldn't happen to have anything to eat?"

"Of course. Come on in."

Harry opened the door.

Deep inside his caged mind, Albus screamed at his father to close the door. The internal struggle caused him to twitch, and he sneezed.

"Gesundheit. You must be exhausted, Albus! Or did you sleep in the car?"

_Ready your wand and respond to your father normally._

"I slept a lot in the car," said Albus.

"Did you remember to thank Theela?" asked Harry quietly, growing close to Albus.

_NO! SHE KILLED HER OWN SON!_

Albus twitched again and grunted.

"Oh, come on," scoffed Harry. "It takes two seconds to thank her. Go on."

_Get over here. Now._

Albus turned and walked over towards Theela.

"Thank you," he said stiffly.

"Oh, you're very welcome," said Theela.

"Waffles? Pancakes? Biscuits? Bacon? Steak? This toaster can do anything."

"I could do with some bacon," said Theela. "Thanks so much."

"No problem," said Harry, turning to the toaster.

_Step close to your father._

"Bacon," said Harry to the family toaster.

As Albus walked swiftly towards his father, Theela whipped out an instrument that was not a wand; a small dart struck Harry silently in the neck, knocking him out as effectively as a Stunner.

_GRAB YOUR FATHER BEFORE HE FALLS AND MAKES A NOISE._

Albus reached his arm out to grab the back of his father's shirt.

_No—NO!_

His arm seized up and he wrenched himself backwards. Harry toppled forward, his face smashing into the toaster as the bacon popped out and landed on his shoulder. He slumped to the floor, and a dish on the counter shattered.

"Shit," muttered Theela, and with one swift motion, she hit Albus with a more powerful Imperius Curse and then turned to stun Ginny as the concerned wife charged into the room to see what had happened.

Ginny parried the Stunner masterfully and locked herself in combat with Theela. This was evidently not how Theela had planned the endeavor, and she hissed through her teeth menacingly as the sounds of dueling filled the kitchen and James and Lily's footsteps echoed from the rooms above.

_Pick up a knife and hold it to your throat._

Albus's arm was shaking, but it wouldn't do as he commanded. He grasped a knife from the counter and brought it up to his neck, tears streaming down his face.

"Stop dueling this second or your son slits his own throat," snarled Theela.

Ginny stopped, horrified, as her gaze shifted over to Albus. Theela's next strike was uncontested, and Ginny crumpled to the floor, Stunned like her husband. Her wand rolled out of her slackened hand and under the sink.

Theela charged up the stairs, and in a few seconds' time, she was dragging down James and Lily by their collars; both were unconscious.

_Haul your sister into the car._

Theela let go of Lily to extract her wand again. She levitated Harry's and Ginny's bodies out the door into the early morning darkness, towards the flying car, and Albus leaned down to grab his sister's wrists. He pulled her all the way out of the door into the car, only the slightest hints of insubordination surfacing in his mind at this point.

Theela opened the door of the car, gesturing Albus over with a swipe of her hand; as if on a rope, Albus was jerked towards the car, continuing to drag Lily across the grass. When he'd arrived at the car, he looked up obediently.

To make room for the new bodies, Theela grabbed her dead son by the hair and threw him clear from the car. He tumbled out onto the grass, looking up at the sky with glassy eyes.

The sight of Lyman, killed by his mother's curse, triggered something inside Albus again. Wild magic roiled inside him, fighting the spell which was subduing him.

_Put your sister in the car._

_No,_ growled Albus inwardly.

He let go of Lily's wrists; the pain this caused in his hands was unbearable, but he fought the commands with all of his strength.

_DRAW MY WAND!_ yelled Albus at his own limbs.

His arm gave a violent spasm as it received conflicting orders from the caster of the curse and Albus's own will; Theela noticed this, and immediately she had her wand drawn on him.

"_CRUCIO!_"

Albus's scream echoed through the neighborhood; lights flickered on in many of the houses. His body was lifted up into the air and he contorted, his head flying back, feeling as though his bones were shattering and cutting through his body from the inside. He crumpled back on the ground a second later.

"You are a naughty little boy," said Theela emotionlessly. "You should listen to your elders. Understood? Or do you need another lesson?"

Albus whimpered as Theela walked towards him. Then she stopped.

"What are you doing, Hank?" she asked, turning slowly.

Mr. Dempsey was peering over the fence, a phone in his hand, his face white and trembling.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Mr. Dempsey flung his body out of the way and ducked below the fence as the Killing Curse sailed over his head, striking the top of the Dempsey's house and blowing off a large chunk. Theela caused the fence to burst into flame, and Mr. Dempsey jumped away from it, out into the open. Theela directed her wand at him with an air of finality.

Albus sliced his hand wandlessly through the air in desperation. A wave of energy smashed into Theela's waist and she buckled over for a moment; Mr. Dempsey disappeared into his house.

With a casual flick of Theela's wand, the ground below the Dempsey's house began to crack open; the entire house crumbled into the gaping maw of the earth, and the screams of Mr. Dempsey's family were quickly silenced when the gap closed back up. Theela then turned again to Albus.

"You're just impossible to handle, aren't you?" she mused monotonously. "You need to be put down."

The next blow knocked him unconscious immediately.

O

"Albus," said a worried voice. "Albus!"

Albus slowly opened his eyes. His head was resting on a cold stone floor. His mouth was incredibly dry and his whole body ached.

"Look up at me," said Ginny's voice.

Albus looked up at his mother. He took in his surroundings for a moment—he, his brother, his sister, and his parents were in some sort of prison cell. Metal bars separated their small room from a hallway. The only person standing guard outside was Theela Dane.

"Albus, look here," said Ginny tremulously, swiveling his head to face her.

Albus stared her in the eyes, wondering what she was doing, and then he felt a hard pinch on his back.

"Ow!" he yelled, swiping her hand away and rubbing the sore spot with a grimace.

"I'm sorry," gushed his mother, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry—it's a crude way that we can test the Imperius Curse—you've thrown it off, or you wouldn't have reacted."

"Good for you," whispered Harry, taking Albus by the shoulders once Ginny had released him. They both looked terrified; Lily was crying and James was holding her.

"Your son is resistant to the Imperius Curse," said Theela. "Like father, like son. It was rather impressive."

Harry ground his teeth as he stared at the woman he'd called his friend. "Theela, you don't know what you're doing," he whispered.

"Correct," said Theela.

Harry stared. "Excuse me?"

"I said, Theela Dane does not know what she is doing."

"Are you Imperiused as well?" asked Harry, gripping the bars of their cell.

"Guess again."

"Our house has precautions to tell when someone enters who is disguised," said Harry, staring. "So it's not Polyjuice Potion. Don't tell me… this is the Marionette's Medicine."

"It is indeed," said Theela, turning towards her prisoners. "Now, stand back."

"Why?" demanded Harry.

"Step away from the bars or I blast you back. Think you can survive a third Killing Curse? I'd be willing to test your luck if you are."

Harry retreated from the door. Theela slid a small card through a slot next to the jail cell, and the door opened.

A thin rope abruptly shot from the tip of her wand, wrapping itself around Albus's neck. She pulled back, and Albus flew out of the cell, hitting the opposite wall.

"What are you doing?!" roared Harry, sprinting towards the open door; with a flash and a bang, he was thrown against the back wall, and the door slammed shut.

"We have need of your younger son for a moment," said Theela, still completely devoid of any emotion.

"If you hurt him—I swear—"

"Settle yourself. We will return him. You'll all die together."

Lily shuddered with further sobs. Harry lost all color in his face.

"Yes, that is to be your fate," said Theela. "You see, the Sandbloods are not being taken as seriously of a threat as we would prefer. We figure that murdering the entire Potter family on live camera might make up for that lack of notoriety. We can only hope that no one discovers how absurdly easy it was to pull this off." She pulled Albus down the hallway, out of sight of his parents.

Albus struggled with the rope around his neck so that he could breathe while being dragged; he attempted to divine where he was, trying to devise some sort of plan for retaliation in some way as they turned down another corridor.

There were a great many doors, all sealed, with Muggle electric lights over the entryways. Most of the lights were red, but some of them were green. Several people walked around with clipboards; two of these people, a man and a woman, accompanied Theela as she brought her prisoner through to a door at the end of the hallway.

The man with the clipboard stepped forward. His hair and eyes were tan; his body looked well-trained. He took a small card from his pocket and slid it through a slot near the door in front of them; the light above changed from red to green, and the door opened.

Theela grabbed Albus by the neck; the cord which was asphyxiating him finally slackened. She lifted Albus up with surprising strength and placed him on his back on a long, flat table. Heavy straps were then placed over his arms and his legs, holding him down.

"Now relax so we don't have to waste time knocking you out," said the man. "Let us introduce ourselves, as well—my name is Palmer Viller."

"Marsilia Scadjair," said the woman. "We'll be your doctors this evening."

Albus only stared, saying nothing.

"I hear you're having a bit of a problem lately," said Viller, clicking a pen rather than using a quill. He scribbled some notes on his clipboard. "Rough time with magic?"

Albus did not answer.

"Imagine that, not being able to do magic," said Viller, shaking his head. "Don't worry, you're in good company. We're all Squibs here, except for our prisoners and slaves. Yep, everyone here grew up with no magic, so consider yourself lucky that you can do even very little."

He took a little syringe and pierced Albus's arm with it. The pinch was an uncomfortable sensation, but not horrible; the cold panic came when he saw his blood filling the syringe.

"You've never gone to a Muggle doctor, have you?" asked Viller. "Don't worry about the blood. This is a perfectly regular thing to do in Muggle medicine. You can relax, I won't be harming your body." He extracted the syringe. "Too badly, I mean. I do want to examine you thoroughly, though."

"Your condition is of great interest to us," said Scadjair.

"We've been watching your family," said Viller, "for a long time. We originally hadn't planned on capturing all of you so soon… and we might even have ignored you and your siblings… if this little magical jam hadn't occurred. We're fascinated by what's happened to you."

Albus didn't like where this was going.

"See, we had an idea," said Scadjair, her lips curling up in a sinister smirk. "I had an idea, in fact. If we study this strange phenomenon that's occurring in you—perhaps we could reproduce it. Weaponize it. That is to say, if we can figure out what caused this odd barrier to develop inside you, maybe we can cause it to develop in other wizards."

"So we're going to study you for the next few hours," said Viller, "and see if we can identify what's different about your magic than normal, and if there's a way to cause that effect artificially so we can devastatingly disable the wizarding community. Is that all clear to you?"

Albus's entire body was shaking in fear; his throat closed up and he couldn't make a sound.

"I am surrounded by sharp and painful instruments," said Viller, "so next time, I'd recommend answering my questions when I ask them, unless you want all of them sticking out of different parts of your body. It's rude to ignore a question."

"Luckily for us, we don't really care whether you understand our grand design," said Scadjair, "because we don't need your consent to study you and you'll be dead by the end of the day anyway. Shall we begin?"

The door opened again, and in walked a man whom Albus had seen before. It was Mask—Maskorn Malseth, the Sandblood leader.

"Good, everyone's here," said Viller. "Mr. Maskorn Malseth here is the head of all strategic operations at our base. You'd know him very well if you were intended to survive past the next few hours. But don't worry—we won't kill you right now. We want the entire family looking picture-perfect when it happens."

"We meet again," said Malseth, smiling. "I've just been visiting the family. So nice to meet everyone at last. Have you been granted an explanation yet of what we're planning to do with you right now?"

Albus looked away.

"Answer our leader," said Scadjair, and suddenly a knife was at his eye. He closed his eyes and felt the point of the knife touch his eyelid, applying pressure.

"Yes," said Albus quietly, trembling.

"Good. You might be wondering why we're telling you. Just know I love making insects squirm before I crush them under my boot."

The knife was withdrawn.

For what must have been three hours, the Sandbloods tested his body. They never did anything that caused him pain—they probably didn't care to deal with him if he was struggling. Strange instruments probed his chest and arms and needles were sliding into him constantly. He felt extremely violated and totally helpless. He wanted it to end, but he didn't want it to end the way he was expecting at this point.

They finished by asking him questions.

"How was this wand treating you?" asked Scadjair, holding up Exo's second wand. "We were unable to get any intelligence on your performance after switching wands."

Unwilling to get another knife on his eye, Albus swallowed the lump in his throat and answered. "I've been slightly better with this wand."

"Have you?" asked Scadjair, an eyebrow vaulting.

"Shall we get out the Veritaserum?" asked Viller.

"I believe him," said Malseth. "Continue."

"How have your Potions classes been going?" asked Viller.

"They're… my best class," said Albus, opting to continue to answer honestly.

"And your wandless magic has been fantastic," said Malseth, smirking. "That, we already know… As I have been watching through Theela Dane's eyes with the Marionette's Medicine, I saw you use a wandless energy blast. That was extraordinarily impressive. Just so you know."

"All right," said Scadjair, "and how about your Diwand Spells class? How's that coming along?"

"Fine," said Albus stiffly. "Just like the other wand classes."

"Last question," said Malseth. "Do you want to die?"

Albus stared at him, eyes watering.

"No," he breathed.

Malseth shrugged, clearly taking pleasure in this reaction. "Too bad."

Albus glanced over to Exo's ivy wand, willing it to fly into his hand. It did not move.

"I'll be back to get you in a moment," said Viller, stepping out. "I'm going to go make sure that the execution chamber is ready for broadcasting. Give a lot of thought as to what your final words will be, yeah?"

He left the room; Scadjair followed closely.

Malseth paced around the room, a contented grin on his face.

"Finally," he muttered. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?"

Albus wasn't paying attention; his mind was racing for a solution. Wandless blasts of energy wouldn't do anything to get him out of his bindings. He couldn't break into Malseth's mind willingly, and even if he could, he didn't expect he'd be able to control the Sandblood. Was there anything he could do in this situation?

He curled his fingertips until they were touching the metal straps over his wrists, and his built-up energy washed over his hands and into the straps.

_Resonance._

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he remembered the skill, watching Malseth pace, and then shot a look over to Exo's wand, which was still lying on the shelf five feet from his table from when they were questioning him. He needed to get to the wand—if he could reach it, then maybe he could get to his father and toss the wand to him—then maybe they could all escape—

Albus curled his fingertips to touch the metal straps again, and he concentrated with all his might. He channeled magic into the straps, checking their Resonance, and with a deep breath, he barraged it with energy—

There was a deep clanging sound, like a gong, and the entire table vibrated, but the straps did not yield.

Malseth stopped monologuing and glanced over curiously.

"What exactly were you trying to do there?" he asked, his voice edged with a slight taunt. "Those straps are resistant to magic. We're not amateurs."

_Resistant to magic?_ thought Albus wildly, his heart racing from his plan, foiled so soon.

"We've developed technology, admittedly with a bit of help, that repels magical attacks," said Malseth. "Great for everything, really—prison cells, walls in general, armor… We haven't been advertising it, though. It's a very nice surprise advantage. Expensive, of course, but money, we can get."

_The metal is expensive,_ thought Albus, his brain racing in panic. _So they would waste as little as possible. Maybe… Maybe the table… _isn't_ made of the metal like the straps are._

He redirected his energy into the table below him, squeezing his eyes shut, praying for success. If this didn't work… he and his entire family were dead.

The table below his wrists began to dissolve away.

He shot his eyes open as his hands sank far enough down to be able to slip out of the straps above. He cast a terrified glance to Malseth, hoping the arrogant man didn't notice what was happening; at that exact moment, Malseth turned away and stared at the wall.

Albus sat up and threw his hands to the table below his feet, using his Resonance training to disintegrate the metal there, too; in a matter of seconds, he was free, and he slid his legs out.

Malseth whipped around, a look of shock on his previously confident face, and he sprinted towards the operating table. Albus threw out his hand; a bullet of energy burst from his hand and smacked Malseth directly in the chest.

But before Albus could even celebrate, the blow was deflected. The energy only caused Malseth the slightest pause as it came whizzing back into Albus's face, and he was blasted off the side of the table, toppling to the ground.

Malseth was above him in a second, tapping his chest knowingly and laughing.

"Did I not _just_ tell you that we've been constructing armor from our magic repellant metal?"

He grabbed Albus by the neck and hoisted him back up into the air.

Albus grabbed Malseth's hands as he gasped unsuccessfully for breath—darkness was closing in on his eyes—he pressed one hand to Malseth's face and in desperation attempted to find the Resonance there—

Malseth screamed in pain and dropped Albus back on the floor; his face was bleeding from dozens of different pores with a sizzling sound like bacon in a frying pan. He stumbled backwards and crashed against the shelves which held Exo's wand; the wand dropped out of sight and rolled under the other material.

Leaping to his feet, Malseth charged at Albus, but Albus now knew that his face was unprotected; he stood and slashed his arm at Malseth. A trail of flame billowed through the air and cracked like a whip between Malseth's eyes; the man howled in pain again and ran to the other side of the room, where there was a stack of knives.

Albus threw himself towards the pile of smashed medical instruments and threw the shattered glass aside, searching for the wand. He heard a grunt, and a sharp pain stabbed at his shoulder and another at his back; he realized Malseth was flinging the knives across the room and the aim was good. Finally his hand brushed against something that fed a magical signal, and he closed his hand around it.

He turned himself around, throwing an energy-cloaked punch into Malseth's already highly damaged face; the Sandblood hit the opposite wall and slid down onto the floor, only twitching slightly.

Every vein in Albus's body was burning with fatigue and endless energy at the same time. He didn't feel like he was quite himself, as if he was watching himself pull off this amazing escape. Without even thinking, he knew what to do; he grabbed the card dangling from Malseth's belt, bounded away from the man's swinging arm, and slid the card through the slot in the wall. When the red light above the door turned green, he flung the door open and bolted down the hallway.

A siren screeched through the halls a second later. Albus took the turns that he never would have remembered if his life didn't depend on it. At one point he turned almost into the surprised face of a Sandblood woman, and without even blinking or missing a step, his mind shot a dart of energy through the woman's open mouth, hitting the back of her throat so hard that she fell over backwards, twitching and gagging. What was going on—why was he feeling so powerful and unbeatable?

He didn't have time to think about it. He made the final turn, Disarming Theela immediately and again wandlessly the moment she came into view. He skidded to a stop in front of the cell and tossed the wand in. With just as instantaneous a reaction, Harry snatched the wand right out of the air like a true Seeker as Albus slid Malseth's card through the slot and the door opened.

Theela lunged for Albus but was blown backwards by Harry as the Potters swarmed out of the cell. Harry didn't ask any questions, he just grabbed Theela's wand from the floor and tossed it to Ginny.

"They have armor," warned Albus, vaguely aware of the fact that his heart was beating out of his chest. "Their armor reflects magical attacks. Aim for their faces or extremities." He didn't even think he knew the word "extremities."

"Tacit," replied Harry. Albus knew this was Auror jargon for "That is now understood and you needn't repeat it." His father was slipping into Auror terminology due to the dangerous circumstances.

The alarm was still blaring through the hall, and suddenly dozens of Sandbloods poured at them from both ends of the hallway, brandishing firearms. Harry and Ginny threw on magical shields; the bullets sprayed through as sand when they were hit.

Albus stepped to the edge of the shield on their right, the dust of bullets pelting his face. He concentrated on the power that was surging up inside of him, and flexed his arm right before throwing his hand just outside the range of the shield.

The burst of flame that exploded from his hand was so intense that it scorched the metal walls on either side of the hall. The Sandbloods turned and fled; some of them were not so lucky and screamed in pain as they disappeared from sight.

Albus turned to his family, all of whom were gawking as if he'd done something incredible. After a brief moment, he realized it was because he _did_.

"We should go now," he said.

Harry nodded and grabbed James's arm as Ginny grabbed Lily's. With a wave of his wand, the magical shield in front of them started moving down the hallway, clearing their path; any bodies in the way were crushed against the shield and swept down the hall until Harry swept them down a side alley or through an open door.

The Potters dashed through the Sandblood base as fast as Lily could run. Albus looked back to see his mother jogging backwards, Stunning every person who came into sight behind them. He noticed a red trail following them and was momentarily disturbed upon the realization that it was his blood.

"Wait—STOP! Harry, stop!" cried Ginny.

The shield slowed in front of them, and right as they stopped, a trapdoor over a pit of spikes opened right where Harry would have stepped if he continued.

"Oh, holy," exhaled Harry. "Thank you, dear."

"I didn't even notice that," said Ginny shakily. She raised a hand and pointed to the door right behind them.

It was open, and inside, there were several people strapped to tables like the one on which Albus had been tested minutes ago.

"Zilla!" gasped Harry. "Parsons! Accolo—Chan—Venin!"

Five unconscious Ministry workers were inside the room, dressed only in hospital gowns. They didn't respond to Harry's shouts.

Harry made for the door, but backed away before he got too close; he was too experienced an Auror to just run through an open door. A silent spell from his wand caused a red glow to appear just inside the room on either side of the entrance. He shot two spells into the room which swerved and smashed into the Sandbloods who were hiding next to the door; there were loud cracks as their heads hit the floor.

Harry ran into the room, followed by Ginny. The shields remained as more Sandbloods surrounded them again. There must have been a hundred—how many Squibs _were_ there, anyway? The condition was supposed to be rare!

Albus charged in the room after his parents. James and Lily followed closely. Lily was holding in her terror, a look on her face that said she was determined to escape, but she couldn't tear her eyes from Albus's still bleeding back. James shielded Lily with his body every step of the way.

"_Diffindo!_"

Harry was attempting to slice off the straps, but the curse rebounded from the magic-repellent metal.

Albus ran forward and disintegrated the tables below the straps with his hands, just as he had done to escape his bindings. His father stared in wonder for a moment before turning his attention to the newly freed Ministry worker, who twitched and started to move once his hands and feet had been removed from the straps.

"He's waking up," said Ginny as she tore through the shelves, apparently looking for something. She cast another shield at the doorway.

"_Imperio!_"

Albus jumped with alarm at the shout before realizing that it had come from his father. Horrified, he wondered why Harry was using an Unforgiveable Curse, but then he realized that these people might also be under the control of the Marionette's Medicine.

Would the Imperius Curse win out over the Marionette's Medicine?

"_Imperio!_" said Harry again as Albus freed the second of the five prisoners. "_Imperio—_Gin, can you get these last two? It's hard enough keeping one, I've got three—"

"_Imperio!_" yelled Ginny. "_Imperio!_"

"Oh, man, wait till I tell Barry I watched my mum use an Unforgiveable Curse!" said James, somehow oblivious to the tension.

"JAMES, IF YOU SAY ANYTHING TO YOUR FRIENDS REGARDING THE FACT THAT YOUR FATHER AND I ARE USING AN UNFORGIVEABLE CURSE, I'M GOING TO USE BOTH OF THE OTHER TWO ON _YOU_," thundered Ginny.

She apparently found what she was looking for, and pocketed it. She nodded to Harry once all five of the wizards were free, and they burst from the room again.

"What if we run into more witches and wizards under MM?" said Ginny as Harry cleared the hallway again with an effective spell like a sideways tornado.

"We won't," said Harry confidently. "Or, maybe we will—but not until we're almost in the clear."

"How do you know?"

"They knocked me out with a dart," said Harry, "even though they had a witch in our house. They want to prove something—that Squibs can beat wizards without magic. So they'll try to use everything they have to stop us without using magic against us, out of pride—unless it becomes clear that we're going to get out. If they realize they've lost, then we might see some Killing Curses. Be ready for that."

The Sandbloods at the end of the hallway were now all sliding on some sort of masks with protuberant protective eyewear.

"What are they up to?" asked Ginny suspiciously, and then suddenly, all of the lights went out.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" said Harry immediately; the emblematic stag burst from his wand. Ginny did the same, and the hallway was flooded with silver light from the stag and the horse. Now, though, Harry and Ginny were more visible and easier to find, as well as more distracted from having to keep up the Patronuses as well as the Imperius Curses. The Sandbloods knew what they were doing—they had eyewear which presumably let them see in the dark.

"_Buos!_" shouted Ginny, a spell which Albus had never heard. A small, ethereal bubble formed in the air and drifted upwards. "We're underground!" she declared.

"Let's get aboveground," said Harry, pointing his wand at the ceiling. "_Supprimo!_"

A hole was blasted in the ceiling; the debris all flew upwards, and no pieces rained down on them. Harry continued to blast through each layer of ceiling as the darkness around them was lit up with gunfire. The shields were visibly flickering, and Harry looked strained. Ginny assisted him in destroying the ceiling until suddenly, daylight flickered in.

"That's it!" yelled Harry.

A ladder formed in thin air with a wave of Ginny's wand; she ushered Lily up first. Albus was chivvied up next, and James followed Albus. The Potters swiftly climbed towards the light, followed by the Imperiused Ministry workers, and then Ginny and finally Harry started the climb.

Albus's limbs were feeling weak due to loss of blood. He willed himself up the last bit of ladder, and his arms and legs felt like they were attached only by a thread to the rest of his body. But they were outside—they were almost home free. There were no obstacles in their path from here, just plain desert as far as the eye could see—

Desert?

Where in the hell were they?

Harry leapt up from the depths of the base last. Albus looked back, seeing only the slightest hint of a building sticking out of the dune where the Sandbloods had made their base. It was extraordinarily well-hidden, but they didn't have time to admire their enemies' handiwork.

"Run, Albus!" roared Harry. Albus turned as Harry and Ginny's Patronuses followed them, filling everyone with the positive energy needed to run. "We're almost out of range—the Anti-Disapparition Jinx can't extend too much farther—just a little more and we're home—"

Albus was panting, and his movements were becoming more lethargic. Ginny kept grabbing James and Lily and attempting to turn on the spot, but she was unable to Disapparate. Harry took Albus's hand and ran with him, not letting his son fall behind.

Spells began to fly at them from behind—Harry was right. They were now being pursued by at least ten wizards, all firing Stunning Spells, some firing Killing Curses. The Patronuses clustered around Albus, filling him with inner energy, but the inner energy wasn't enough when his limbs were just about too weak to carry on.

Then Ginny, James, and Lily, only fifty feet in front, Disapparated.

"That's it!" cried Harry. "Albus—just a little farther—" He turned and fired _Incarcerous_ at two of their pursuers, but one of them was gaining with frightening speed.

"Albus—please—you can do it—"

Albus stared at the spot where his mother had disappeared—twenty feet away—ten feet away—the silver horse stood in front of him and the silver stag was right behind him—he was almost there—

The closest MM-controlled wizard was near enough for Albus to hear the shout of his next spell as Stunners whizzed by their ears.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

Something hit him square in the back, as hard as an iron-clad punch, and he blacked out.

* * *

_**On that note - see you on Saturday!**_


	12. The Headmaster's Haunt

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE HEADMASTER'S HAUNT

O

"What do you mean, it isn't _clear?_"

"I mean to say that it's hard to see. And I'm certain you know what the word _clear_ means."

"Listen, Potter. The only thing that comes to mind when I think of unclear things in someone's memory is that it has been—"

"Wait—wait—He's waking up!"

Albus opened his eyes upon hearing the hushed conversation between his father and another man in the room.

The first thing he saw was his father descending upon him, hugging him tightly. If he hadn't been looking at his father holding him, he wouldn't have known he was being hugged; he didn't feel anything, and suspected he was heavily numbed. The only thing he felt at the moment was a slight soreness in his back. He noted that his surroundings were very clean and white; he was in a hospital, possibly St. Mungo's.

"So you're alive," grunted Obydin Auchland.

Albus looked over. Why was the Head of the Auror Office in his hospital ward?

"I thought we were going to lose you," said Harry, and there was a shake in his voice which Albus had never heard. He finally let go, and Albus saw that he was crying.

"Do you know whether the curse hit you?" demanded Auchland.

"_Auchland,_" shot Harry furiously. "He just woke up. Let him alone for a few _minutes_, at _least_!"

"So you can discuss your story with him?" challenged Auchland. "Not likely."

"Mr. Auchland," said a Healer in the room, glaring behind her glasses. "I have told you. The boy's wounds were incredibly severe. His blood count was critically low and he'd been hit by a powerful curse and was Petrified. If you're suggesting that he was not actually attacked, I quiver to imagine what you _are_ suggesting. Now both of you get out of the room so that I can treat him."

Harry stepped from the room, placing a stiff hand on Auchland's back and guiding him out as well.

The Healer twitched her glasses. The lenses suddenly became like magnifying glasses, and she walked over to Albus's bed. She was holding a clipboard. Albus suddenly had flashbacks to the Sandbloods and their operating table; he closed his eyes to collect himself.

"Are you okay?" she asked carefully.

"I'm fine," said Albus, opening his eyes again. His voice was hard to produce.

"Please be honest," said the Healer. "Or your recovery will not be as successful. Are you feeling pain right now or are the numbing spells working?"

"They're working. I promise."

"Oh, good."

Albus glanced at her nametag; she was Healer Glaslyn.

"What were they talking about?" asked Albus, nodding at the door.

Healer Glaslyn rolled her eyes; the sigh she released moved her entire body.

"Mr. Auchland, Head of the Auror Office, does not believe that your family was actually abducted."

"WHAT?" screamed Albus, trying to sit up but collapsing back onto the bed immediately.

"Don't do that again," she cautioned. She placed a hand gingerly on the side of his head; her glove was coated with some sort of medical gel, and he felt himself taking a calming breath immediately. "Relax. Auchland is out. He's not going to be the Head of the Auror Office for much longer—not after this."

Albus smiled at this news. He'd never liked Auchland, and from the things his father complained about last summer, he knew that no one else liked him, either. "Why?"

"Auchland has spent the last year insisting that the people calling themselves Sandbloods are not a legitimate threat," said Healer Glaslyn, now examining him with numerous different instruments. "Now that your family was almost all killed—everyone survived, by the way, don't worry, including the five Aurors you all rescued, and your neighbors the Dempseys are all fine as well—people are turning on Auchland like a pack of wolves, saying that they could have prevented this near tragedy if they'd taken the Sandbloods seriously from the start and went after them."

"How can Auchland think this didn't happen?" coughed Albus. "What, does he think I stabbed myself?"

"Auchland thinks that all of the other Aurors put massive effort into falsifying this event in order to turn the public against him," explained Healer Glaslyn. "Don't ask me why he thinks this. It's probably the same mental breakdown that happened to Cornelius Fudge all those years ago. This is a little different, though—Fudge was delaying his dismissal and it actually worked for a while, but Auchland is just giving a dying twitch." She laughed. "If you and your family actually _did_ set this up, I'll tell you, you did a damn good job."

"Why did Auchland ask me if I remembered whether a curse hit me?" asked Albus.

The last thing he remembered was someone shouting the Killing Curse, and something hitting him hard in the back. But that spell _couldn't_ have been the Killing Curse, or he would be dead… obviously. So where was the confusion?

"Your father has been going over his memory of the incident," said Healer Glaslyn as she continued to test him, "to try and identify where you were and what we're dealing with. He has… an interesting memory of the event. It would appear you were hit with the Killing Curse. But that is unclear because of the Apparition that occurred right as the spell should have made contact. What we _do_ know is that you were hit with a curse in the exact spot where the Killing Curse was aimed. When Auchland watched the memory and saw that it vaguely looked like _Avada Kedavra_ hit you, he's clinging to that as evidence that the memory was forged. Because obviously you would not have survived the Killing Curse. The only possible explanation is that either the Killing Curse missed you by the width of a hair, or that the caster did not adequately cast the spell."

"Couldn't cast the Killing Curse?"

"It's possible," said Healer Glaslyn. "If you aimed a Killing Curse at me right now, I doubt I'd get more than a headache. This would probably mean that the wizard casting _Avada Kedavra_ was not under the control of the Marionette's Medicine, but rather Imperiused. Then he was able to fight off the Imperius Curse when he realized what he was casting, and refused to supply the hateful emotions needed to work the spell, so it only Petrified you. That's been known to happen. The Sandbloods would not want to waste any MM if they could avoid doing so. They would want to use the Imperius Curse when possible, to avoid depleting their supplies. So that's what we believe happened—Auchland's version of events is that it was a poorly constructed fake memory."

"So… is it impossible to fight off the effects of MM?" asked Albus.

"Impossible," said Healer Glaslyn. "But, your mother had the presence of mind to bring back some MM as proof that the Sandbloods are using it, so now Auchland can't deny the threat. No one can."

As she finished poking him with blunt instruments and recording results, she patted him on the shoulder. "I hear you did some spectacular work in the course of your family's escape," she said.

Albus nodded. "I was doing the best wandless magic of my life."

"You just experienced a small measure of the phenomenon known as In Extremis," replied Healer Glaslyn.

Albus had heard that phrase before, but he couldn't remember where…

Then he remembered the picture on one of Professor Allira's Tetronfi cards—a mangled and bloody body hovering in the air, glowing with a red-orange light.

_In Extremis! The rarest draw of all! When you are closest to death, you are most capable of fighting for your life._

"In Extremis is the inner power you obtain from realizing that you may very well be about to die," said Healer Glaslyn. "Your magical metabolism goes into overdrive, realizing that you have nothing to lose by doing everything you can possibly do. You perform feats of magic you never knew were even possible, let alone possible for a third year Hogwarts student. You channel all your power into fighting to stay alive. And stay alive you did! We almost lost you, though. While everyone was marveling over the fact that you seemed to have been hit with a Killing Curse but were still breathing, you were losing a large amount of blood. It's really a wonder you survived, even though whatever curse hit you didn't do the job. But undergoing In Extremis like that in a body so young left you with absolutely no energy left; you've been unconscious for seventy-three hours."

The door burst open. In stormed Obydin Auchland, followed quickly by Harry, and then the very short and wide Ottovius Tulta, Head of Public Information Services.

"It's been long enough!" barked Auchland. "I hear you in here, telling him all about what you say happened. I want him interrogated!"

"INTERROGATED?" erupted Harry.

"Yes, if it will get the truth out!"

"LOOK AT HIM! YOU THINK HE'S IN ANY FIT STATE TO BE INTERROGATED?"

"We'll find that out after the interrogation," said Auchland. "This is preposterous! Absolutely preposterous! Squibs—capturing wizards? This entire charade is farcical—implausible—ludicrous—"

"If you're done reciting every synonym to the word 'ridiculous,' you can leave," said Healer Glaslyn venomously, "so that my patient can get the rest he needs!"

"He's been out cold for three days," countered Auchland. "He doesn't need any more rest!"

"Excuse me," said Healer Glaslyn. "Which of us is the medical professional and which of us is the politician in the middle of a firestorm? Get a job here and become my superior and _then_ you can tell me what's best for my patients."

"You don't talk to me like that!" bellowed Auchland. "I AM your superior! I am the Head of the Auror Office and I demand to—"

"Not for long—" interrupted Harry, and then they were both shouting over each other, neither one audible over the other.

"AUCHLAND!" exploded Tulta.

Harry and Auchland were both struck dumb. Tulta, by how Albus remembered him, was somewhat timid and submissive to his superiors. But now he had asserted himself, and it was apparently so surprising that he'd silenced both of his companions.

"Auchland," said Tulta, drawing himself up to his full height (which was not very high), "you need to take a step backwards—or perhaps several thousand—and look at yourself. You argue that you do not deserve to be removed from office, just as you prepare to aggravate a grievously injured teenager. I suggest you think about how that will sound in the press if you plan on continuing."

"You wouldn't dare," said Auchland dangerously, descending upon Tulta like a Lethifold.

Tulta gave the slightest hint of regret for his outburst, but after he looked at Harry, who was glowing with pride, he held his ground. "No, I am not," he said. "I most certainly assure you that I am not."

"You answer to _me_," threatened Auchland, staring Tulta in the eye.

"I _did_ answer to you," corrected Tulta. "For nine years. And I don't know why it took me this long to stop."

Auchland's eyes were bulging. "I PUT YOU WHERE YOU ARE TODAY!"

"And I'm putting you down," replied Tulta.

"Drop it, Auchland," declared Harry. "Your time is up and if you're trying to give us a reason to keep you around, you're doing a terrible job."

"I will get my answers," said Auchland, turning to Albus.

"Not now, you won't," cautioned Tulta. "It's time for you to leave. The hospital and the Auror Office. If you go quietly and drop these insane conspiracy theories, I'll make sure the press doesn't hammer you as hard as we could. If you continue to try and intimidate this young man who has barely escaped certain death—for the second time in his life—" Tulta winked at Albus. "Then I'm afraid I can't promise exactly what the Daily Prophet might say about you."

"You will be swiftly removed from your position," warned Auchland. "I will personally see to it as quickly as possible."

"You no longer have any clout," retorted Tulta. "The only thing remaining to which you may 'personally see' is how you leave—amidst roaring controversy, or of your own free will when you humbly realize that you are no longer the most suitable candidate for the job."

Auchland strode swiftly towards Albus.

_BANG._

A jet of red light streaked into Auchland and struck him in the shoulder; his torso contorted and he plummeted to the ground.

Healer Glaslyn was smirking, her wand arm extended as Harry and Tulta turned to her looking rather impressed.

"I believe that falls under Patient Protection Clause Thirty-Eight," she said. "Assuming you two weren't planning to attest that he was harmless."

"When's the first opportunity I'll have to throw him under the bus?" asked Tulta.

"I don't suppose shoving him in a broom cupboard afterwards also falls under Patient Protection Clause Thirty-Eight?" asked Harry.

O

Albus's entire family, as well as all of the Weasleys—every single aunt, uncle, and cousin—arrived shortly to visit Albus in St. Mungo's. James spent a good hour describing how amazing Albus had performed during their escape, and Albus recounted some of the details himself. There was a full-on cheer when Albus described how his father and Tulta had dealt with Auchland, and an appreciative round of applause for Healer Glaslyn when Albus mentioned how she'd Stunned the incompetent man. Healer Glaslyn blushed deeply but gave a self-satisfied bow.

"I have to run, Al," said Harry when the stories had finished. "I have to give a press conference. I'm sorry—I'll be back soon." He kissed his son on the forehead and gave another strong hug, and then was gone.

"What does he have to talk about?" asked Albus. "A replacement for Auchland?"

"That's part of it," said Uncle Ron. "Harry's also going to give a talk about how dangerous a threat the Sandbloods are now."

Albus's brow settled.

"Wait," he said. "But—that's exactly what they wanted us to say!"

"We know," said Aunt Hermione. "That's why we have to say it."

"But you're letting them win!" protested Albus.

"Al," said Ginny soothingly, "there are some times when you have to lose a battle to win the war—or, at least, to reduce the scope of the damage. The Sandbloods are probably fuming over the humiliation you've dealt them. The whole reason they tried to capture us was so that they would be taken seriously as a threat, and gain notoriety. If we don't give them that notoriety now, they'll probably try to kill someone else to erase their mistakes. Your father needs to publicly recognize them as a threat so that they don't try to get publicly recognized by escalating the conflict even further. And now, when he makes it known how dangerous the Sandbloods are, everybody will be out looking for them, and it will only be a matter of time before we find where their base is located."

He could understand this logic.

"Thanks to you, we already know that it's in the desert," said Uncle Percy. "That's a huge step forward. It could have been anywhere in the world before—now it's down to the deserts."

"I'll keep an eye out when I'm in Egypt," said Uncle Bill.

"So, Albus, we never got to 'ear," said Aunt Fleur. "'Ow was your Yule Ball experience?"

"It was really nice," said Albus, smiling as he thought about his kiss with Janelle.

Abruptly, the door burst open.

In a flash, Janelle Lombard had parted the gigantic Weasley crowd and embraced Albus, weeping her eyes out.

Albus blinked rapidly. He had to be dreaming.

_Janelle?_

How had she gotten here?

"Surprise," mused a slightly familiar voice from the door.

"Gabrielle!" exclaimed Aunt Fleur, moving towards the back. "You got my owl?"

"I did, and I decided I should let Janelle know, seeing as 'ow it was directly after zeir date zat ze situation occurred," said Gabrielle Delacour, pushing her way up front. "After all, we are close neighbors and my daughters are good friends with 'er."

Renee and Talia walked up to the front and started giggling at the couple. Albus placed an awkward arm around Janelle's shoulder as she continued to sob into his neck.

"I c-cried the whole way h-here," sputtered Janelle. "Oh, Albus—are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied.

He'd actually never felt better.

O

Janelle wouldn't leave Albus's side very easily. She kept mentioning how close they had come to never seeing each other again, and seemed to have been more emotionally damaged by the experience than Albus. He loved that she cared this much about him, and he promised to write her every week.

Eventually, the time came when classes would resume at Hogwarts. Albus spent a very long time convincing his father and Healer Glaslyn that he was perfectly capable of returning to school, but in the end, his physical tests supported his position; after all, only one of his wounds had been magical, so they were simple to treat.

Albus finally stepped out of St. Mungo's for the first time in ten days. He was in a good mood; it was hard not to be optimistic by virtue of the fact that he was still alive.

"How am I getting to Hogwarts?" he said. "I've missed the train, haven't I?"

Harry stared at him. "I'm not putting you on the train!" he said, sounding almost shocked. "I wouldn't have done that even if we _could_ have made it. Al, our family was targeted. By a more powerful enemy than we had even considered could exist. There's a lot of places we aren't safe anymore. Things aren't going to be the same from now on."

"What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "I already had this talk with James and Lily, I'm sorry you weren't there when I started to get into it," he said glumly. "Lily asked and I had to answer. For starters, we have to move."

Albus's face fell.

"What?"

"I really hate to do this," professed Harry. "Especially while you kids are so young. But we can't take any chances anymore. I can't let anything like this happen again. So… no one is going to know the location of the place to which we relocate, apart from a select few people whom we know we can trust—and whom we know are not under the influence of MM. Then there's the matter of travel. I don't…" He scratched his sideburns. "I really don't want you or any of the family to be out in the open for a while. If any of us are out in the open, we're going to have some serious protection at all times."

Albus could understand why his father would want this. After what he'd been through, he really didn't want anything like that to happen ever again. He'd had a similar experience after the Lunar Eclipse festival. This time, however, he hadn't been having nightmares. He wondered, since everyone had been telling him that his magic had been affected by the Lunar Eclipse, if this experience might affect his magic as well. Perhaps in the opposite direction? He could only hope.

"Obviously, you're safe at Hogwarts," said Harry. "But I don't think you'll be safe on the Hogwarts Express." He placed a hand on Albus's shoulder. "Maybe never again."

"I can never ride the Hogwarts Express?" said Albus, a pit forming in his stomach and knots forming in the pit. "Ever again?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe with suitable protection—if you wouldn't be opposed to dragging four or five Aurors onto the train with you, that is. I suppose you could do that if you really wanted to ride the train next time." Harry pondered this for a moment. "Actually… Maybe we could just do that anyway. The world is a dangerous place now—I don't think Aurors watching over our children on the return trip would be such a bad idea in general."

"How am I getting to Hogwarts now?" asked Albus.

"I'll be taking you on the Loch Stock Liner," said Harry. "Safest way to travel, hazard-free since 1883."

"We're not taking the car?"

Harry grimaced.

"What?"

"I was advised… not to take you in the flying car," said Harry. "Healer Glaslyn instructed me to avoid taking you in the car; it might trigger bad memories in you, since that was the method of our abduction, and the things you saw in that car were apparently not very pretty."

They stepped towards a large fountain. Harry took out his wand.

"Sit with me on the edge of the fountain," he said, and Albus did so.

"You're not going to call the LSL _here,_ are you?" asked Albus, looking around at all the Muggles. "I mean… not that we can't use magic in public now, but it still seems…"

"It's like the Knight Bus, Al, Muggles don't notice it," replied Harry. "Even after the Global Revelation, the Knight Bus and the Liner kept their protective enchantments for the most part. The Knight Bus takes some Muggle customers sometimes now, but it usually stays hidden—there's no telling what kinds of car accidents might be caused if Muggles saw that bus weaving all around the streets. The LSL, meanwhile, just likes to stay discreet all the time. They'd have way too many customers to handle if they served a Muggle audience as well."

Harry tapped his wand on the surface of the water three times.

"It might be an expensive way to travel, but no number of Galleons can buy back a family member we've lost," said Harry. "And they already found us once in the flying car, so it would likely be a bad idea even if I wasn't told not to take it… The LSL, though, no one is anywhere near capable of finding it once it's underwater, and it can take us right to Hogwarts—the Black Lake."

The water swirled as the ground throbbed once; none of the Muggles around seemed to notice. Then a dark shape formed under the water, bursting through the surface, somehow managing not to spill a drop outside the fountain.

A ladder was tossed over the side of the black ship, landing directly between Albus and his father.

"You can take the ladder, Albus, no one will see," said Harry, gesturing to it.

Albus leaned over and grabbed the ladder. Giving an interested look around at all of the people who were not paying the slightest attention to this extraordinary sight, he stood on the edge of the fountain and jumped onto the ladder, not wanting to get his feet wet. His father followed close behind him.

"Harry and Albus Potter!" roared Milo delightedly, clapping Harry on the back as they descended into the ship. "Delighted, as always. Rooms fourteen and up are open. Would you like a Slumber Suite? One's open, surprisingly."

"No thank you, it's too expensive," said Harry, smiling. "Six Galleons?"

"Two," said Milo.

Harry blinked rapidly. "Did the fare plummet or something? Hard times?"

"You and Ronald always sail for free here," said Milo. "I took your fares off last time, too. So two Galleons! Assuming this young lad is indeed under seventeen."

"Two Galleons, then," said Harry, laughing. "I won't argue. Excellent, that will save so much! We plan on coming back here a lot; this could be our main way of getting you to and from school now, Albus."

"That's fine by me," said Albus. He liked this ship, and he liked Milo Melaenk with his twiggy mustache. He also liked not dying.

Harry handed Milo the two Galleons and took Albus's hand, leading him down to the cabins.

"Thank you for your business," recited Milo as they walked away. "As per our code of conduct, we will always arrive at your stop within one hour or we'll reimburse you; two hours and we'll reimburse you double. Feel free to settle into any open cabin. Please don't smash the windows. And welcome to the Loch Stock Liner, safest way to travel! Hazard-free since 1883."

"I know your speech by heart now," laughed Harry back.

A thought struck Albus as they settled into cabin fourteen. "Does this ship come whenever you call it, no matter what time?"

"Yes," said Harry, closing the door behind them.

"When does the crew eat? Or sleep?"

"They change crew for twelve hour shifts," replied Harry. "And if the Liner pauses for thirty seconds or so before diving, that's the crew having their lunch break. It's a rigorous job, but it pays very well, I hear. And it should, for what we pay to ride!"

"What about Milo? Or the Captain?"

A purple light flashed from the candles in the cabin. Albus grabbed onto a railing as the boat lurched under the waves.

"Milo sleeps four hours a day," answered Harry once the freefalling sensation had stopped. "He takes an intern from some magical school, tutors him or her on the basics, and then lets them take over while he sleeps. Salvo Ihmleste, our captain, does not sleep; he's part-vampire. Less than a percent, I believe, but still enough vampire to mean that he never has to sleep. I imagine it's quite enjoyable, not having to interrupt your day." Harry looked out the window. "I do like traveling on this ship. It reminds me of the old days back when I was head of the Auror Office, hunting Gallen Ingot."

Albus remembered why his father said he had given up this position—it was strenuous, being Head of the Auror Office, and he wanted to spend time with his family and young children after the threat of Gallen Ingot had been ended.

The candles in the cabin began sparking yellow, and Albus grabbed the railing again as they soared through Digher Straits, the cabin shaking like there was a mildly strong earthquake. He kept an eye out for the creature they called the Loch Stock Stalker, peering through the Blicks whizzing by the window.

"So I suppose this could be our method of travel from now on," said Harry. "I would ask Helio to arrange Portkeys to and from the castle if I didn't care about making him run around just for me, but I don't want to be a burden."

Albus smiled. "Well, Professor Wilcox told me that he could never repay me for saving his son, so maybe we could pull that card."

"Albus!" laughed Harry. "No, I'm not going to ask him to do that. He has enough to do; he's already helping us deal with the Sandblood menace in any way he finds out he could help. And it would mean a lot of logistics to get permission to do it."

"Logistics?" asked Albus.

Harry shook his head. "I hope you never get into politics, Albus. Er—obviously you can do whatever you want, but… Politics is just a mess. When you want something done, like arranging for Portkeys, it's not as simple as just doing it. You have to jump through a lot of hoops to do pretty much anything. Helio could literally lose his position as Headmaster if the Board of Governors finds out that he was making Portkeys in and out of the castle without permission."

"Oh," said Albus. "I hope that doesn't happen… I can't imagine Hogwarts under anyone else."

"Neither can I, really… I don't think there was a better successor to McGonagall out there."

"What'll happen to Auchland now?" said Albus. "Is he just going to… you know… go away?"

"I really, really hope so," said Harry, sighing. "Believe me, if I could remove him from the country, I'd do so. He's been incompetent before, but I think he's lost it now."

"Didn't you say he and Professor Wilcox were friends or something?"

"Not anymore," said Harry with glee.

"Who is going to fill his place?" asked Albus.

"Almost certainly Geri Stenet," answered Harry.

"Molly's boyfriend's dad?"

"That's him. Geri is the greatest. There's no way those Sandbloods are staying hidden for long if he gets the post. Which he will—nobody wants to make a mistake like Auchland again."

"How did Auchland ever get the job in the first place?"

"He was a very good Auror," said Harry, "and he happened to receive the fortune of capturing a large cohort of Gallen Ingot's supporters right before Ingot himself fell, which gave him his peak in popularity right as I was leaving the post. I really don't think it was skill, though, I think he literally stumbled onto their encampment by accident. That's not my being biased against him, that's my professional opinion on the matter."

The candles in the cabin flashed green, and they were out of Digher Straits. Then there was another yellow flash followed by the heavy grinding that signaled that they were traveling through land. When the tremors ended, the candles flashed blue.

"Oh, Milo," chuckled Harry, rolling his eyes. "He's gone and moved us up the queue again…"

They exited the cabin, and Milo winked at Harry again.

"You don't have to keep doing that," insisted Harry. "We're a normal family, okay? Treat us like any other passengers. Thank you very much for the thought, though."

"If you insist," said Milo. "At the moment, though, we're already at the Black Lake, so…"

"Yes, that was very kind of you," said Harry, giving Milo another smile. "I'll be headed back to the Ministry from here, so I'll head to customs inside the Ministry if you'd be okay to wait here for a couple seconds while I bring Albus out."

"Will do," said Milo.

Harry led Albus up to the top of the Loch Stock Liner, and escorted him to the ladder, freezing the water below so that Albus could walk to the shore without getting his feet wet.

"Bye, Albus," said Harry. "Stay safe."

"Bye, Dad," said Albus, hugging his father tightly.

"Things are looking up," whispered Harry. "Geri's going to be Head of the Auror Office soon. We know that the Sandblood base is in a desert. You gave us the names of two of their other high-ranking operatives, Palmer Viller and Marsilia Scadjair. We have some of the Marionette's Medicine and we're working on an antidote. I think things are going to go much better from now on. Now I have to let you go—we can't hold up the boat too long or they'll leave me on the deck when it submerges, they have to go deliver their other passengers. I'll see you for Easter, Albus, I'll come back on the Liner; we'll owl about it. Love you."

"Love you too," said Albus, and he descended down to the ice platform, jogging to shore and then back up to the castle; he looked over to watch the Durmstrang ship plunge back into the depths of the Black Lake. The giant squid popped a hint of its body out of the water for a moment and gazed around with one eye above the surface, apparently confused by the ship's appearance; its gaze fell on Albus, and it stared at him for a while before it ducked below the waves.

Albus turned his sights to Hogwarts again. The castle stood tall; it had stood through the worst of times and survived. So would he.

O

"Merlin's taint," muttered Alec after Albus had finished his story in Diwand Spells the next day.

"Merlin's what?" asked Aidan, then he dismissed it. "Albus… I can't _believe_ you survived. I mean… imagine if you hadn't taken A.R.M., or we hadn't been studying Resonance!" His eyes were watering.

"My dad was _wondering_ what the hell happened," said Exo, eyes wide. "Man, Albus, you just have a way with not quite dying, don't you?"

"Runs in the family, I guess," laughed Albus.

"Are you all right?" asked Aidan.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Albus for the hundredth time that day; everyone who knew him at all was asking him that question. "I just wish that I could do every day what I did in the Sandblood base. I'd be unbeatable."

"In Extremis isn't meant for everyday use," said Aidan. "You'd be unbeatable until you passed out from the strain. It's just like how wandless magic tires you out further."

"Did you kill anybody?" asked Alec eagerly.

"Alec!" snapped Exo. "That's not the question he needs to think about right now."

"I don't know," said Albus. "It's all kind of a blur… I was paying more attention to myself and my family than to what happened to the people I was attacking."

"Did you do any wandless spells?" asked Alec. "Like, not just bursts of fire or energy, but actual spells?"

"I Disarmed someone," said Albus, "but I think that might have just been because I hit her hand with an energy burst so hard that she dropped it."

"…And the most… complicated… Diwand Spells… are Shatterbolts… and Frostflames…"

Professor Dixon was squeezing out words with all the speed of peanut butter sliding down the side of a jar.

"Did any of your family lose their wands?" asked Alec.

"No," said Albus. "The only wand they took was the one I borrowed from Exo, but I got that one back. I was the only one with a wand on me when we were captured."

"How many Sandbloods were there?" pressed Alec.

"Lay off of it, Alec," said Exo.

"It's okay, I don't mind," said Albus. "There were hundreds, I think."

"The condition is supposed to be rare," said Aidan, puzzled.

"Not rare enough," said Albus.

"And obviously, not all of them would become Sandbloods… so, why so many?"

"Maybe they're making more Squibs," suggested Albus, "with MM."

"Oh, I don't like that thought," said Aidan with a grimace.

"Did they have guns?" continued Alec.

"Yes, a lot of them," said Albus.

"Maybe their base is in America!" exclaimed Alec. "They've got lots of guns."

"Dad said it was pretty far away, based on the strain of his Apparition," said Albus. "Mum apparently got Splinched pretty bad, and she's really good at Apparating… then again, she was also taking my brother and sister…"

"…will result… in a perfect grade… for the year… and exemption… from the exam."

All of the mini-conversations in the room screeched to a halt at the same time upon hearing these words from Professor Dixon's mouth.

"What?" asked Sylvester Alamandrine, staring up at the front of the classroom for the first time since the beginning of the year.

"I said," repeated Professor Dixon, still somehow not annoyed by the lack of interest, "that any student… who can perform… a full Shatterbolt… and a full Frostflame… by the end… of their fourth year… will receive… a perfect grade… for that year… and exemption… from the exam."

Looks were exchanged all around the classroom at this news.

"Do not expect… to be successful," said Professor Dixon. "No one has ever… accomplished this feat… before they have… become of age. However… it is also true… that no one has yet… attempted these spells… so early. Therefore… we do not know… if it is possible… to produce either… Shatterbolts… or Frostflame… at this stage… in your education. But, if it can be done… you will have proven… masterful grasp… of the material… and it would be… my opinion… that you need… no further… instruction."

Albus looked over at Rose, who was looking at Aidan, who was looking at Lucas. He looked over at Lucas, who was looking at Professor Dixon with a big, boastful smirk on his face.

If Lucas became the youngest person ever to produce a Shatterbolt or a Frostflame, he'd never let anyone hear the end of it. Albus groaned and buried his head in his arms on the table. He really hoped that either Rose or Aidan would beat him to it.

"I believe I should… leave early… and get to sleep," said Professor Dixon. "I am going to… come down with a… minor stomach bug… and miss Friday's class."

The students all exchanged glances of confusion. This wasn't the first time Professor Dixon had told them something about when he would get sick. How exactly did he know that?

"Aidan, you have to promise me something," said Albus as Professor Dixon hobbled out of the room like a tortoise with four broken legs.

"What's that?"

"Please don't let Lucas beat that challenge first," begged Albus.

O

Albus fingered his phoenix feather necklace as he walked to Care of Magical Creatures the next day. It was warmer against his skin than usual; he wondered why.

Uncle Charlie was in the usual spot by Hagrid's former hut which now belonged to Faustulus Earle, talking to a man who looked to be in about his mid-fifties but was surprisingly more physically fit than any man Albus had ever seen. He looked familiar. As they got closer, Albus recognized the man, and threw a hand to his mouth, letting out a little squeak.

"There a problem?" asked Aidan, turning to him and raising an eyebrow.

Alec had a similar reaction a few seconds later. "That's Damien Tashra!" he choked. "Captain of the Moutohora Macaws! What's he doing here? He's an international celebrity!"

Uncle Charlie waved his arm for everyone to gather around, which they did.

"Good morning, all!" he said with a tone of voice which hinted that he had something spectacular to show them. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine—Damien Tashra, captain of the Moutohora Macaws Quidditch team! I've practiced Quidditch with him before, and I contacted him for this lesson."

Tashra waved his hand at the class, looking around with a friendly grin. Most of the boys in the class were fawning over the celebrity in their midst; Alec looked like he wanted to run up and kiss Tashra's feet.

"He is the longest-running Quidditch Captain in the world, and one of the most successful in general of all time," said Uncle Charlie. "But he's accomplished another feat that's rarely been done before, one which I think is infinitely more impressive. Mr. Tashra is one of the few known individuals in history ever to have domesticated a phoenix."

The students gasped as one. Uncle Charlie seemed quite pleased with this effect.

"We'll be studying the amazing creature known as the phoenix in the coming weeks," said Uncle Charlie giddily, "and Mr. Tashra has been kind enough to come visit today to introduce us to his domesticated phoenix, Sparky. Though… 'domesticated' is really not the right word for it. It actually seems to be the entirely wrong term. You see, a phoenix will only partner itself with a man of great courage and ability, whose heart and mind and soul are all pure as can be. Albus Dumbledore was such a man. And so is Mr. Tashra! Now, may I introduce Mr. Tashra's magnificent companion, Sparky the phoenix!"

Tashra raised his arm to be fully level with his shoulder. A brilliant burst of flame preceded the unexpected appearance of a phoenix several feet above his arm. It landed on his arm, and Albus felt the phoenix feather necklace around his neck give off copious amounts of heat—it was as if the feather could signal when a phoenix was close by. From the look that Charlie gave him when Albus lifted his arm to feel his necklace, he assumed that the feathers did indeed have this power.

"Phoenixes are likely the most powerful creatures in existence," said Charlie. "You set a Re'em, a Dementor, a basilisk, a Lethifold and a Nundu all against a phoenix and I'd still put my money on the bird. Hell, I'd take a phoenix against a Hydra! Their tail feathers are one of the most powerful, and the most choosy, of wand cores. Use one as a quill and you'll rarely have writer's block. Phoenixes can vanish and reappear at will and can take with them whomever they please. The Ministry once attempted to regulate such Disapparitions but were unable to find a way to prevent the phoenix from appearing; they then decided that nobody really cared who Apparated with a phoenix because the only people who can Apparate with a phoenix are those who have earned its trust, and the phoenix is never fooled by disguising a darkened soul, so the Ministry doesn't really have to worry about where the pure of heart and soul are Apparating. They did, however, very recently manage to discover how to block house-elf Apparition, and protections against that magic have been put into place now that house-elves can be free to go wherever they please… so maybe they'll discover how phoenixes Apparate soon and be able to block that as well. Not likely, though… no one can get close to a phoenix to study it unless they are chosen by said phoenix. Anyway, the other things they can do are just as impressive. They can carry loads of up to five hundred times their own weight—but this may be an underestimate of their ability, since no one has actually tested how much the phoenix can carry. Their tears have healing powers; there are several poisons to which phoenix tears are the only antidote, including poison of the soul. The phoenix's song will inspire those with noble intentions and will strike fear into the hearts of the evil. And this—this is perhaps the most amazing of all—a phoenix does not die. Rather, when it becomes old, the bird will burst into flame but will be reborn from the ashes. Phoenixes are immortal."

Albus looked at the phoenix in admiration. It was a gorgeous bird; it gave off a shimmer, slightly distorting the air around it like heat. The scarlet and gold tail was so long it draped along the ground for several feet, though Tashra's arm was still at shoulder height. It raised its beak at all of the students in turn, and ruffled its feathers majestically.

"When the human partner of a phoenix dies, the phoenix will not seek a new partner, but rather leave," said Uncle Charlie. "It will sing a mournful song and depart on its own to seek solitude. Phoenixes are most commonly found on Mount Solaeris in India. They can be found elsewhere, but the only way you're sure to find one is by scaling Mount Solaeris. The mountain is closed off to the Muggle public, but wandmakers usually hire people to go up and collect fallen feathers, and tourists like to watch the phoenixes dance in the sunrise skies; it's said to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world. I highly recommend seeing it at least once before you die."

They each got to have a closer look at Sparky, and pat him on the head if they wanted. While this was going on, Albus heard someone calling his name.

"Albus Potter!"

He turned around to see Tashra waving at him.

Alec took in a sharp, jealous breath at the fact that Tashra was talking to Albus. Trying to keep his cool and failing, Albus grinned awkwardly back with extremely wide eyes and waved feebly.

"I have a message from Mrs. Scamander," said Tashra, holding out a box. "She was going to send an owl, but then she found out that I was coming over to Hogwarts and asked if I might deliver. First off, though, she wants to know that you're okay after your ordeal?"

"I'm okay," said Albus, starting to lose his balance in Tashra's presence; he teetered precariously.

"That's good," said Tashra. "Here."

He handed Albus the box; Albus opened it and saw his wands inside.

"She said that she could detect negative emotions in your wands that are often associated with inconsistent performance, but which should not have been affecting your magic in the way that you said they were. All in all, she says she has no idea what's going on, but that she's going to be looking into the problem for a while because she's fascinated by your dilemma, and she wants you to keep her updated on any developments in the problem. I think that's everything…" He scratched his head. "So just send her an owl if anything else extraordinary happens, but hopefully she'll have found something out about your problem soon enough."

"Thank you," said Albus numbly.

"You're welcome, Albus. And hey, if you or your family are ever down around Moutohora, feel free to drop in, stay the night if you'd like. Until we meet again!"

Tashra shook Albus's hand, saluted, and walked briskly back to Sparky, starting up a conversation with Charlie. Albus gawked at his hand.

"You are so lucky," breathed Alec. "I can't _believe_ you shook his hand."

"If you're done marveling over a guy who flies around on a broom all day, there's a freaking _phoenix_ sitting over there," remarked Aidan.

O

On Thursday morning, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, amidst all the coughs and sneezes (there was a sickness sweeping through Hogwarts like a storm), Professor Westerling entered the classroom with two somewhat large suitcases.

"Boggarts!" he said, rapping on one of the two suitcase with a knuckle; it quivered, and the class jumped a little. "Someone tell me what they are."

Rose had her hand up in the air first, and Professor Westerling called on her.

"Shape-shifters," she said confidently. "They take the form of whatever we fear the most."

"Perfect," said Professor Westerling. "Five points to Gryffindor. Boggarts will squeeze their way into small, dark spaces, like the inside of a drawer, or a closet, or under a bed… or even in a suitcase. When children believe that there are monsters under the bed, it's usually a boggart; usually, parents can identify this quickly and expel them rapidly, unless of course the parents and children are Muggles, in which case Obliviators are sent to deal with the boggart and the memory change. The children aren't usually wiped of their memories because it's potentially damaging for a child and altogether easier to just not do it; the result is that parents usually think the kid's just imagining the monster."

He pointed at the suitcases with his wand. "I have two here so that we can be sure everyone can get a turn, but boggarts are actually not too easy to come by. The charm that combats a boggart is thusly stated: _Riddikulus._ You say it."

"_Riddikulus._"

"That was Riddikulusly good. Ha-ha… ha… Anyway, just saying the spell isn't enough, as I'm sure you all know from your reading. You must imagine the boggart to be something amusing. I want all of you to think of your greatest fears right now, and will some brave volunteer tell me what your boggart might be?"

Riley raised his hand.

"My mom, when she's angry," he said, shivering.

It was easy to tell, from the look he had on his face at the thought, that this wasn't a sarcastic comment.

"All right," said Professor Westerling with a grimace. "I don't want to condone any mocking of any parental units, but how might you make it amusing?"

"I don't think that's possible. You've never seen her when she's angry."

"Here," said Professor Westerling, whispering something into Riley's ear; he nodded. "Can you picture that very clearly?" he said after he was finished.

Riley nodded with a grin.

"All right. Everyone needs to think about what your boggart would be… You're almost always right, because the boggart will focus on whatever comes to mind at the moment as the most frightening thing you can think of. Everyone raise your hand when you're ready. Remember to picture very clearly in your mind the way in which you would make this fear become a source of hilarity, and keep it in mind when you cast _Riddikulus._ It's not the charm that defeats the boggart; it's the laughter caused by the scene. I'm going to wait until half the class is ready, and then we'll start with that half…"

Albus tried to picture something he feared. He could only come up with Maskorn Malseth's sneering face, telling him that his family was about to die, and he decided in the end to let the boggart take the form of that Sandblood, and he'd burn its face off like he'd singed the real one.

"What's _your_ boggart, Exo?" asked Albus, turning to his friend.

Exo didn't seem to be doing so well; he was sick from the cold that was making its rounds through Hogwarts, and since the full moon was tomorrow, he was feeling low on energy anyway. He was as pale as Albus had seen him at his worst.

"I don't know yet," he muttered miserably.

Albus stepped forward with the first half of the class; they were ready to go. Professor Westerling nodded at Riley, and then from afar, he popped open the suitcase.

Out popped a middle-aged woman with hair all over the front of her face and sticking out on the sides; her eyes were bugging out and she looked almost ready to foam at the mouth.

"RILEY WORO ANDERSEN!" she bellowed; Albus sniggered at the middle name. "YOU LAZY, LOUSY, LACKADAISICAL DOLT! YOUR FATHER AND I WORKED SO HARD IN SCHOOL TO SUPPORT OUR CHILDREN AND YOU GO AHEAD AND SCREW YOUR LIFE UP THIS BADLY—"

"Riley!" pleaded Professor Westerling, getting ready to intervene.

"YOU'LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING, YOU'LL NEVER DO ANYTHING RIGHT, AND IT'LL ALL BE YOUR FAULT SO DON'T COME CRYING TO ME OR YOUR FATHER WHEN—"

"_Riddikulus!_" bawled Riley.

Mrs. Andersen began barking. Instead of coherent shouts like before, she was now just yelping with consistent dog sounds. The rest of the class burst into laughter, and Riley smirked and giggled, though Albus could see tears behind his eyes.

"You're up next, Ava!"

Ava Vaughn stepped forward and took a combative stance; Mrs. Andersen morphed into a terrifying alligator-like creature.

"_Riddikulus!_" she shouted instantly.

The alligator's mouth was suddenly stuffed with a product that Albus recognized from his Uncle George's joke shop, which glued the jaws together; he recalled that they had based that prank off of Hagrid's treacle fudge.

"Next! Eftan!"

Eftan walked forward confidently.

The boggart twitched and flickered back and forth—it was losing strength—before focusing on a creature that Albus recognized.

It was Tippy, Alpheus Boderight's little Pomeranian, but it had flowers blooming on its skin and vines protruding from its neck, which were hissing like snakes at the people in the room. It was a mulunctapol—it was Dizzy. The revelation in the papers that mulunctapoli were no longer considered extinct must have had an effect on people's fears.

"_Riddikulus,_" said Eftan calmly.

The mulunctapol's vines suddenly started rotating fast like a helicopter, and the confused creature was lifted up into the air.

Toby was up next—his boggart was fire, but a sentient fire that resembled Fiendfyre. He changed it into a sand sculpture of the fire which crumbled away. Lucas was beset by a Lethifold, which he turned into a camping tent; Abby Quinn faced another mulunctapol, and its vines wrapped up the body like a mummy. It was growing weaker as Alec got up and the boggart turned into a man holding a rifle.

"_Riddikulus!_"

The rifle bent backwards and blew a hole in the man's head; he deflated rapidly like a balloon.

Rose walked up next. The deflated man sprang up and morphed into a stone statue of an angel; its hands were over its face like it was weeping.

Rose squeaked in fright but collected herself; without blinking, she stared down the angel and raised her wand. "_Riddikulus!_"

The angel statue actually started crying, wiping its eyes and sniffling loudly, unable to collect itself.

"You're afraid of statues?" asked Dorothy.

"It's a Muggle television show… they're not actually real… Oh! I can't think about them anymore… somebody else go up…"

Albus stepped forward, and when he did, he suddenly had a thought of what he feared far more than his own safety.

The boggart twisted and flickered feebly, but it suddenly formed itself into Aidan's and Alec's bodies, sprawled on the floor staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Albus had no prior thought about what to do—he hadn't expected the boggart to take that form; the thought of his dead friends had only popped into his head right when he'd stepped up. He raised his silver lime wand, hoping his magic would finally work again, and swallowed a lump in his throat.

"_Riddikulus,_" he said shakily, trying not to look.

There was a loud _crack,_ and the boggart turned into Exo's body, limbs distorted in ways that shouldn't have been possible.

"_Riddikulus!_" roared Albus.

_Crack._ Janelle's body was next; there was a large cut right across her heart, and blood poured out endlessly onto the floor.

"_Riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!_"

_Crack._ James's body. _Crack._ Lily's body. _Crack._ Rose's body…

Rose gasped, and Professor Westerling jumped in front of Albus. The boggart, apparently strengthened, turned into Gallen Ingot, and Professor Westerling waved his wand to place Ingot on stilts; the sinister-looking man toppled over backwards back into the suitcase, which slammed shut.

"Okay," said Professor Westerling, trying to distract the class from what had just happened. "Let's think about how we all handled our boggarts—Albus, don't worry. Your magic is still at a low point, and that was to be expected of such a harsh fear. Fear for the safety of those you love is the hardest fear to confront by yourself; it's like trying to protect everyone you love all by yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of—you had the most noble fear in the classroom and you should be proud."

Albus blushed and backed away from the front of the classroom.

The door then opened, and Wilcox strode in, looking upset.

"Exorian!" he said, approaching his son. He quieted down upon reaching Exo, but Albus walked over and was close enough to hear the ensuing conversation. "I told you to come to my office before this class! You're unwell and I don't want you doing magic."

"I'm perfectly fine," said Exo unconvincingly. Albus had heard conversations like this before between Exo and his father; inevitably, Wilcox would win, but Exo wouldn't be happy about it.

"The full moon is tomorrow and you've got some sort of a bug. You need rest. Come on up, I'll get you something to help you sleep—"

"I don't need a morning nap, I need to stay caught up in my classes!"

"We'll make accommodations so you don't have to sacrifice your health—come with me, Exo—it's no sense denying it, you're not strong by denying you need help, strength is about accepting the help of others—"

"Dad, I've heard you preach about 'strength' so many times…"

"Exo, I'm not leaving until you come with me, so please, will you—"

"Hey Professor Wilcox!" shouted Riley from across the room, unlatching the second suitcase. "What're you afraid of?"

Wilcox looked up, and his jaw sagged slightly as Riley hurled the suitcase towards him. It burst open upon hitting the ground, and the boggart soared out.

Wilcox backed away and whipped out his wand as Harry Potter, face contorted in anger, snarled like a bull in his direction.

There was a last loud _crack_ and Harry exploded into smoke. When the smoke had cleared, all that Albus saw was Wilcox's leg disappearing out of sight behind the door.

"What just happened?" said Exo, almost in shock, echoing the thoughts of the rest of the class.

Albus stared after Wilcox, rubbing his eyes and trying to determine whether he had seen correctly.

Why the _bloody hell_ was their Headmaster's greatest fear—_his father?_

O

Exo was present for all of his classes that day, and Wilcox did not come back to collect him. As a result, Exo looked more exhausted than ever, but he seemed happy to not be interrupted.

Wilcox was not present at dinner that night. "Where's your dad?" asked Albus, looking around.

"I don't know," said Exo. He didn't seem as fazed by the fact that his father's boggart had been Albus's father. "He has a secret place in the castle where he goes when he's upset. I haven't found it yet. I'm not sure anyone's found it except him."

Exo vanished for the whole day Friday; Albus hoped he would be back as soon as possible with his father's input on the situation. He wanted an explanation. The only explanation he could possibly devise, in two full days of pondering on it, for someone's boggart being Harry Potter… was that they were worried Harry would find out that they were motivated by darker intentions than it would appear.

Despite all that he knew about Wilcox, for the first time ever, he did not feel safe at Hogwarts.

* * *

_**I really liked this chapter... :)**_

_**If anyone noticed, I watched an episode of Doctor Who... "Blink," on a recommendation from Andy. It scared the life out of me. I think Rose's boggart would be mine right now. I thought the episode was excellent.**_

_**Only two questions this time:**_

_**NoName20 asked: What is Marionette's Medicine and how does it work? Answer: Everything that you know about MM at this point comes from Book 1, Chapter 7: The Mulunctapoli. Anything else, I can't tell you, but you'll find out in time :)**_

_**Guest asked: Do you have to put the cliffhangers? Answer: ...Yes.**_

_**See you on Wednesday!**_


	13. Siege Drills and Secrets

_**Fairly long upload, and a lot of stuff happens in this chapter; hope that makes up for my unexpected hiatus.**_

_**Some of you remembered I live in Massachusetts and asked if I was okay after the Boston incident. Thank you for the well-wishes. I'm fine, my family and friends are fine. Disgusted and heartbroken, but fine.**_

_**Chapter Fourteen will be uploaded on Saturday as planned.**_

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SIEGE DRILLS AND SECRETS

O

Maybe it was Albus's imagination, now that he was growing suspicious of Wilcox due to his boggart, but the castle seemed to be growing darker and more ominous, as if reflecting his mood. There were strange sounds echoing faintly through the halls which he hadn't noticed to this point. Maybe the sounds had always been there and he had simply grown used to them over the years, but it still made him nervous.

Finally, Exo returned on Saturday at dinner, and Albus was anxious to get any answers he could from his friend.

"You look a little better," remarked Albus truthfully as Exo sat down next to him.

"I'm recovering from the cold I had," said Exo, sniffling. "Have you gotten it yet?"

"Not yet," said Albus, deciding how to best introduce the topic he wanted to hear.

Exo twiddled his fork around his noodles and smiled. "I asked my dad about the boggart incident, by the way," he said.

Albus smiled back, grateful that Exo started the conversation so that he didn't have to. "Really? What did he say?"

"He didn't want to talk about it, but I got it out of him," said Exo. "He thinks that your kidnapping was his fault."

Albus accidentally dropped his fork. "Wait… what?"

"He said he should have been more careful about who transported you," said Exo. "That he shouldn't have let you go with Mrs. Dane until he was sure that she wasn't with the enemy."

"She was under MM," said Albus, puzzled. "He couldn't have known. She was answering all of the security questions that my dad was asking her."

"They can do that even under MM?" asked Exo. "I didn't know that. Well… Dad was just really upset, saying that he almost let the son of one of his greatest friends die, and after you'd saved my life, he thinks he's doing a horrible job as Headmaster and is worried that the next time he makes a mistake, someone _is_ going to die."

"But… why was his boggart my dad?"

"His greatest fear is letting his friends down," said Exo. "Failing. Letting me die and having to explain what happened. Or letting you or James or Lily die and then having to face your father and saying, 'I couldn't protect your kids.'"

Something still wasn't clicking for Albus. "But… even if I had died… my dad would never have been that angry at your dad like the boggart. They've known each other for so long… they're such good friends!" Considering this, he suddenly wondered how he ever could have thought that Wilcox's boggart indicated he was evil.

"I don't know," said Exo. "I'm not really sure how boggarts work, but… Rose's boggart was something that doesn't even exist, right? I don't think fears have to be rational, they just have to be feared."

Albus massaged his forehead. Had he really been worrying for the past two days that Wilcox wasn't on their side? What indication—

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a siren that blared through the Great Hall with such a volume that every student at dinner dropped whatever they were eating and threw their hands over their ears.

The alarm decreased in volume shortly, but it was still blaring through the Hall at a painfully high volume.

"GET UNDER THE TABLES!"

Professor Longbottom leapt from the High Table and sprinted towards the main door, slamming it shut. There was a mass scramble as every student in the Hall tried to fit underneath the House Tables. Professors Desulgon and Valon flanked on the left and right sides of the Hall, standing guard near the windows, and Professor Westerling stood guard at the front. The other teachers joined Professor Longbottom on either side of the main door, readying their wands in case it burst open. The only teacher not moving was Professor Dixon, but he held his two wands tightly in his hands and stared at the ceiling.

"What's going on!" screamed Albus to Exo, still only barely managing to be heard.

"I don't know!" yelled Exo.

"Are we under attack?" shouted Rose, her eyes wild.

The alarm shut off at last, and the table above the Gryffindors was almost lifted by the collective sigh of relief that everyone blew at its underside. Climbing back out from under the table, they all took their seats again and stared at the main doors as they swung open to reveal Wilcox.

"Thank you for cooperating, all," he announced to the student body, looking extremely exhausted. "That was the first of the siege drills we'll be putting into effect during the course of this term. There will be a siege drill some time during the first week of every month. You will be receiving information on this system shortly, which will tell you where you should go if you're not with a teacher when the drill begins. The drills could take place at any time—during classes, meals, free time, weekends, or even in the middle of the night. I urge you to take these drills seriously, as if someone were actually entering the castle, because for all you know, it might not be a drill the next time it happens, and we need to be prepared. For now, you may continue with your dinner."

Wilcox and the other teachers walked to the High Table. After a fair amount of grumbling over the earsplitting interruption, dinner resumed.

"The world's a different place now," said Jonah, shrugging. "I suppose it only makes sense that Hogwarts would be a different place, too."

"But do we really need to dive under tables once a month?" asked Toby, rubbing the spot on his head where he'd bumped it in getting out of the line of fire.

O

_Dear Janelle,_

_Hogwarts is undergoing tighter security. I think it might be because of what happened to my family. Now we're going to have siege drills once a month where we have to get under our desks and get ready to try and Disarm anyone who comes in. Everyone thinks it's ridiculous. They're also taking our school's Defense Association much more seriously. We just had a meeting and Madam Duopold, our Flying instructor and Quidditch coach, was literally screaming at anyone who couldn't do a Disarming Charm, which included me, of course. My wands still aren't working and it's been five months now. I'm beginning to think my problem is never going to be fixed and it's really depressing._

_So of course, because I can't do anything with these wands, Lucas was named the best duelist in Gryffindor House in our year, and he's going to be in the Dueling Tournament representing Gryffindor. I wish Rose had beaten him. I've never rooted against my own House before but I would really hate it if he won. He's so arrogant and conceited about everything. You should have seen the way he looked at me when he beat me in our dueling practice._

_That's all that's new in these past couple weeks. I can't wait to see you for the second task… it's less than four weeks away! Tell your sister I said good luck, but not too much, because I still have to root for Hogwarts._

_See you on February 29!_

_-Albus_

Albus looked over his letter to make sure it sounded good, and ran it up for Thoebl to deliver, hoping James wouldn't miss the absence of his owl too much while it took the trip to France. He jogged back over to Gryffindor Tower.

When he entered the portrait hole, somebody called his name. "Albus!"

Albus turned around and waved hello, until he realized that Parker Pullman had been the one hailing him, and Parker couldn't see Albus waving hello; he was blind, he couldn't see anything.

"Hey, Parker!" said Albus. They had never really talked much, except when Albus was reading his notes aloud so that Parker could study. In fact, he rarely saw Parker outside of class.

"Gil Gartrive was looking for you," said Parker. "He's down in the library right now and asked someone to tell you to head down to meet him."

"Will do," said Albus.

He paused as a question struck him.

"Hey, wait," he said, turning back around. "How did you know it was me, Parker? Do I make a certain sound when I walk or something?"

"No, Mr. Earle is teaching me to read auras," he said. "That's why I'm not usually here. I can do it loosely now, I can usually recognize when one of my friends is around. Cool, huh?"

"Wow, yes," said Albus, greatly impressed. "You should teach me sometime!"

"Sure, if you want, but it would take a while. Hear you around!"

Albus laughed and jogged down to the library.

After some quick searching, he came across Gil rather quickly. Gil's hair was violet following the holidays, so he wasn't difficult to pick out of a crowd. Albus's mentor was sitting very still at a table, subtly peering over the top of a book. Albus followed his gaze to where Louis was sitting across the room, talking to a group of sixth year girls and another sixth year boy that Albus didn't recognize.

Albus walked in front of Gil's sight and waved hello. Gil snapped out of a sort of trance and waved back.

"Hi, Albus," he said. "Somebody get the message to you?"

"Yeah, what did you want me for?"

"Well, we've been slacking on mentoring stuff, but I know everyone has and that wasn't really why I called you here," he said. "I wanted to ask you if you know what's going on with Louis?"

"With Louis?" Albus glanced over.

"No, don't look over at him, he'll know we're talking about him!" said Gil, pulling Albus into the seat beside him. "Just act like we're doing mentor stuff. I'm only curious because Louis has been… upset… for the month since we've been back."

"Generally upset since the holidays, or continuously upset since the holidays?" asked Albus. "Have you been watching him every day?"

Gil blushed so violently that if his hair had still been red like when Albus met him, his face and hair would have matched very well.

"No, obviously not," he protested. "Just, er, observing the general pattern. He looks like he's angry at something. Do you know what he might be angry about?"

"I have no idea," said Albus. "He seemed really happy at our Christmas Eve dinner. I wonder what happened?"

"Darn, Freddie doesn't know, either," said Gil, combing his fingers through his hair.

"Have you asked Louis?"

"I'm nervous," mumbled Gil.

Albus twisted around in his seat a little bit and looked up at his befuddled mentor.

"Hey, Gil."

"Yeah?"

"Do you like Louis?"

Gil's eyes darted across both ends of the room. "Er—what? Of course—of course I like him, he's my good friend! I'm concerned for his—"

"You know what I mean," teased Albus gently. "Well? Do you?"

Gil grasped a lot of his hair in his hands as he stared at the desk below them and nodded.

Albus unintentionally bounced a little on his chair in excitement. He considered this development, and looked over to Louis for a moment; Louis was looking over, too, and he waved at Albus. Albus waved back. Gil glanced up and started to wave as well, but Louis had turned back to his other friends. Gil dropped his hand back on the desk.

Over the years, Albus had heard and seen some interesting things about the nature of boyfriends and girlfriends. He knew that his Aunt Audrey had a brother in Canada who had married a man, and he had met their adorable young sons on several occasions. And he knew that one of his mother's good friends, Lila Lorn, was raising a son and daughter with another woman. But he knew that most people (himself included) were not interested in romantic partnerships with members of the same gender, and he was pretty sure that this category also included Louis; his oldest male cousin had dated more than his share of girls and had never given an indication that he might be interested in a boy. Of course, he couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but regardless of how great he thought it would be if Louis started dating Gil, he couldn't imagine it happening.

"Sorry," mumbled Albus.

"For what?" asked Gil, surprised.

"If Louis isn't… you know. Isn't interested."

"That's not his fault," said Gil earnestly. "I don't hold anything against him. I wouldn't want a girl who's interested in me to hold anything against me for not liking girls. Er… sorry, this is awkward, I don't talk about this much."

"Why not?"

"Complications. Not everyone is like you, Albus… Not everyone does the respectful thing by not giving a shit. Pardon my language."

"Not everyone does what?"

"Never mind. It's not up to me to preach. Everyone decides for themselves what to think and it's not my problem what anyone else thinks about me."

"That's a good attitude," complimented Albus.

"But still, imagine me, Muggle-born and gay, try to get a job with someone who _does_ give a shit," said Gil, rolling his eyes. "Ah, well. Such is life. I bet if I had been the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion, I wouldn't have—"

He paused mid-sentence and didn't blink for the next fifteen seconds.

"Oh holy crap," he finally said.

"What?"

"I think I just figured something out," said Gil, laughing a little. "And, wait, but Louis was—Oh holy CRAP. But—wait—that means—HOLY _CRAP_."

He stuffed a fist into his mouth, eyes bugging out of his skull as he glanced back at Louis.

"What?" repeated Albus, shaking his shoulder. "What are you holy crapping? Wait—"

Gil had jumped up from his chair.

"I think I just figured out why Louis was upset," he said, looking panicked, ecstatic, and feverish all at the same time, and then he rushed out of the library.

Albus peered down next to the other chair and noticed Gil's bag; he brought it up with him to Gryffindor Tower, wondering what facts his mentor had put together, but Gil was so flustered that Albus deemed he should put off the question for now.

O

"Hey, Albus!"

Unexpectedly, Sylvester hailed Albus and his friends after their double period of Wandless Magic in mid-February, two weeks before the dueling tournament and fifteen days before they were to leave for Beauxbatons.

"Hey, you guys doing anything right now?" he asked, jogging up to catch up to them.

"Weren't you planning on sending a letter to Janelle today?" Aidan asked Albus. "It's Valentine's Day."

"I already did that," said Albus.

"I need to show _someone_ this thing I just found," said Sylvester, clearly excited about something big. "You're not going to believe what I came across today. You're going to especially love it, Albus!"

"What, what did you find?" asked Alec.

"You'll see," said Sylvester. "Come on! I'll bring the whole A-Team."

"The A-Team?" asked Aidan skeptically.

"Muggle movie. How about it?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll go," said Albus, his curiosity won. "Have you shown Eftan?"

"Er," said Sylvester, and Albus took that as a "no."

"Why not?"

"He and I don't really talk as much," said Sylvester, shrugging. "He's really focused on his work now. He doesn't talk to anyone much."

Albus sighed and shook his head. He had always regretted the fact that Eftan had slowly crept out of their group, but now he was feeling a sort of resentment. Why wouldn't Eftan talk to anyone?

He wished he could turn himself into the Sorting Hat and get a look inside Eftan's head.

"Come on," said Sylvester, leading them to the second floor. He surveyed the hall furtively, and then pushed open the door to a girl's lavatory.

"What the hell—Sylvester!" hissed Albus, peeking in after him. "If you need to go, there's a boy's bathroom right—"

"No, the thing I want to show you is in here," said Sylvester, gesturing them inside.

Highly nervous about what would happen if they were caught in a girl's lavatory, Albus nonetheless stepped inside, expecting to hear the screams of several very unhappy girls; but there was only one, and she wasn't screaming, but moaning.

Moaning Myrtle popped her head over the edge of one of the stalls and gave Albus a shy little wave. Then she swooped over to Sylvester and would have tousled his hair if her hand could have made contact with his head.

"Hello, Sylvester," she said sweetly. "Come to show some other guests your slithery little discovery?"

"That I have," said Sylvester. "Lady and gentlemen, step aside! Or float aside."

He cleared his throat, and what came out of his throat next was not English. It was a hissing noise that Albus immediately guessed was Parseltongue; Sylvester's pet snake Razka slid out from under his sleeve to watch.

One of the sinks in the room suddenly glowed with a white light, and then it descended out of sight; what remained was a pipe wide enough to slide in.

Sylvester flashed a grin. "Want to see the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked, and then he jumped down the pipe.

"The _Chamber of Secrets?_" coughed Alec; Aidan was just gawking, and Albus, heart pounding with excitement, immediately jumped in after Sylvester.

The pipe was like a slimy slide, and they continued down for what felt like miles. The thought suddenly struck Albus of how they would get out once they were in, but Sylvester had already been down here, hadn't he?

The pipe leveled out and he thudded to the ground on his back in a wet tunnel that was large enough to let him stand. Alec was next, and from the sound of Aidan's yelling and cussing, Alec had probably dragged him along. The two of them shot into the tunnel about a second apart; Albus only barely remembered to step aside from where they were going to land.

Sylvester had used _Lumos_ and was lighting the way; Albus looked around in fascination. The walls were dark and slimy; there were skeletons of small animals littering the ground in front of them.

"Whoa, this is amazing," said Alec, laughing at the sights. "Never even considered the thought that I'd see this!"

"This is disturbing," corrected Aidan, shivering. "I would have been perfectly happy never seeing this place."

"This is freezing," said Albus, rubbing his arms. "Why didn't you warn us to bring anything?"

"Come on," said Sylvester, egging them further down the tunnel.

They passed the remains of a giant snake skin; Albus breathed in deeply, wondering if they would see the remains of what shed the skin. Climbing over a wide pile of rocks under a crack in the ceiling, and continuing through turn after turn in the dark tunnel, they finally happened upon a solid wall, on which rested two entwined carved serpents with glistening emerald eyes.

Sylvester made his Parseltongue hiss again, and the wall cracked open, the halves sliding smoothly out of sight. Even knowing that there was nothing inside anymore, Albus was still shaking slightly as he stepped through.

The chamber was dimly lit so that the ceiling was out of sight. Towering stone pillars with more carved snakes were casting long shadows across the greenish gloom.

"Wow," stated Alec simply; the echo reverberated around them for a long time.

Ahead, they could see the outline of a giant snake skeleton. They approached it.

"Your dad killed that thing," said Sylvester, elbowing Albus in the side. "Can you believe that?"

"Are the fangs still there?" asked Albus; drawing closer, he could see that they were, but many of them had been pulled out.

"Yes, but they're no longer venomous," said Sylvester. "The venom loses its potency twenty to twenty-five years after the death, and it's been that long. I guess that's a good thing. We wouldn't want people storing up basilisk venom."

"I suppose not."

"I'll tell you what, though," observed Alec. "I'm coming in _here_ if there's ever an actual siege. This place is _sturdy_."

"You'll have to learn Parseltongue," commented Sylvester.

Alec began hissing and spitting randomly.

"You just said, 'I am a smelly face-licker' in snake language," laughed Sylvester.

"Wait, really?"

"No."

"What did I say, then?"

"Dude, you said _HISSSPLAFLSLPSSSPSESS._"

"Yes, but what does that mean in snake?"

"This is seriously amazing," said Aidan, sliding a hand along the gigantic backbone of the basilisk. "Hey, thanks for showing us down here, even if it is the creepiest place I've ever been."

"You're welcome," said Sylvester. "And guess what? I know what to say to the head to make the mouth open, though I don't agree with it." He turned to the statue of Salazar Slytherin at the back of the Chamber and began hissing at it again.

The stone mouth opened slowly, and Albus felt his hair raise. It wasn't a pleasant sight, especially since he knew what had come out of Slytherin's mouth the last time somebody had spoken whatever words Sylvester was saying.

"What do you have to say to it?" asked Alec curiously.

"You have to say, 'Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.'"

"To make his mouth _close,_ do you have to say, 'Shut up, Slytherin, you arse?'"

Sylvester walked up to the open mouth, wading through a shallow puddle, and climbed into the mouth.

"Hey, guys, look," he said, laughing. "I'm Slytherin's dinner."

Aidan grimaced. "I wouldn't—"

His eyes flying open, Sylvester gave a small shout as he suddenly lurched backwards into the darkness.

Aidan threw a hand to his mouth and choked a scream—Alec staggered backwards and held his wand up—Albus sprinted towards the mouth of the statue and threw himself inside.

Sylvester's laughs were next to echo through the Chamber as he reemerged. "Oh, you guys, come on, there's nothing here!"

Aidan let out an angry snort through his nose; this was not helping the fact that he and Sylvester already disliked each other.

"Don't do that again," muttered Albus, and Alec nodded, looking slightly sick.

"Okay, fine, gee whiz."

"Let's go," said Aidan, still clearly tense. "I just… don't like it in here."

"If you insist," said Sylvester, and he led them out.

"Hey—Sylvester—what's that word you made for opening the Chamber?" asked Albus. "It might come in handy, you know."

Sylvester made the snake language sounds a few more times, and Albus tried to memorize the sound.

Razka coiled around Albus's arm as he practiced the pronunciation and Sylvester corrected him; it was as if the snake was curious as to why Albus was trying to say "open." It opened its mouth slightly and tilted its head at him, looking almost cute; Albus would have pet it if it were any other animal.

"Hey, you've got it down pretty well," said Sylvester, grinning. "For a Gryffindor, I mean."

"It's all still just hissy noises to me," scoffed Aidan.

"Don't hate!"

They had reached the pipe slide which led them down.

"All right, children, hold everyone's hands, now!" announced Sylvester. "When I say 'up,' we're gonna go up—ready?"

A final hiss escaped his lips, and then there was the oddest feeling—as the pipe rushed up around them, it felt like they weren't moving at all, but the world was moving around them. When they burst through the entrance to the Chamber, the world tilted for a moment, and they suddenly were ejected onto the floor right outside the Chamber, which closed back up again.

"Lovely, isn't it?" asked Myrtle. "Ghosts can't get there unless it's open already."

"That sort of magic exists?" asked Sylvester.

"Yes, and there's another spot just like it in the dungeons," said Myrtle, winking at Albus.

"Heard anything from there lately?" asked Albus hopefully.

Myrtle shrugged. "Only about once a month."

"You're still hearing things?" asked Albus, surprised; he hadn't expected an affirmation.

"About once a month, there's stirrings," she replied. "Like something's waking up. But it always goes back to sleep real quick. Lately Professor Wilcox has been hearing it, too. There's a pattern to it, and he's figured out, accurate to the calendar, when the groaning is about to start up again. He's always down there to see if he can figure out what the sounds are."

"Oh," said Albus, trying to decode this large development. Wilcox was hearing sounds… that happened once a month? "It's not Exo, is it?"

"The werewolf boy?" giggled Myrtle. "No, he's up in the headmaster's office. The groaning is still coming from under the castle."

"Does he know what it is?"

"I heard him say something to Professor Valon," she mused, "about something having to do with a hard-to-pronounce name beginning with D."

Albus blanched.

"He said he's worried about the summer," giggled Myrtle, "and that's all I know."

"Worried about the summer?" asked Albus, his heart racing. "Wait—why—"

But Myrtle had already splashed down under her toilet, and the four boys were left alone in the girl's lavatory.

O

The Dueling Tournament, and the day before the second task, arrived before Albus knew it. He wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing Lucas in the tournament, particularly because he had a strong dread that the American git would win, but he was content to excitedly stand on the sidelines as the first match was called up—Naomi Bayroot of Hufflepuff versus Lily Potter of Ravenclaw.

Lily won with an excellently executed Disarming Charm. Hugo came up victorious in the same fashion, and it was cousin against cousin. They were young, of course, and so the duel wasn't as stellar as it would probably be in a few years; Lily quickly cast a Full Body-Bind on Hugo which was so well placed that he had no opportunity to block, and the match was over in a heartbeat.

Albus applauded his sister, and then when the second year students walked up, Albus caught sight of Eftan shifting towards the front of the crowd as well. He would be in the tournament, too, as Albus had heard.

Albus strolled up to Eftan and tapped him on the shoulder; Eftan looked around.

"I just wanted to say good luck," said Albus, holding out his hand.

Eftan didn't seem to notice the hand. "Thanks," he muttered, and turned away.

Albus pursued and stepped in front of Eftan. "Hey, what's going on?" said Albus, glowering. "Why are you being so cold to us all of a sudden? Even Sylvester says—"

"I'm busy with work," said Eftan dismissively.

"Too busy to ever speak a few words to some of your oldest friends?" whispered Albus. "Eftan… are they bullying you in Slytherin for being friends with me?"

Eftan eyed him carefully, and slowly, he shook his head. "No."

Albus couldn't determine whether or not he was serious.

"I'm just… not that social of a person," said Eftan. "I prefer no company. I like being alone. Can you… Can you just respect that?"

Stunned, Albus blinked to make sure it was really Eftan who was saying that. He'd never gotten the impression that Eftan disliked their company. But people could change, and if Eftan really didn't want to be around them anymore…

"Okay," said Albus with the slightest hint of a choke in his voice.

He turned and left, still confused. He hadn't been able to tell whether Eftan was telling the truth, that his departure from their group had been entirely his own decision. Was that the case?

He watched the third year duels, disappointed to watch Lucas beat Eftan handily. Alec went up next and took down Aidan again—Alec was such a natural duelist… maybe he'd have a chance against Lucas.

But no, Lucas won again, and Albus turned his attention away from the duels to simmer in his annoyance at the snarky blond with his overlarge ears and eyes and his tiny chin and nose, a nose that Albus very badly wanted to punch right through the back of his head. Now he was bound to be infinitely smugger, having evidently just proved himself the best duelist in their year…

But he hadn't yet. At his prime, Albus knew that he could have beaten Lucas. There was always next year. If only his wands would start working! But Luna still hadn't written back about any new information on the predicament…

James walked over with Barry, Gavin, and Marco. They hadn't done any Loki, Pokey, Polo, and Pent pranks in a while… He wondered if they were up to something big.

"Go Roxanne, huh?" asked James, beaming.

"What?"

"Weren't you paying attention? Roxanne just won."

"Wasn't paying attention," said Albus sheepishly. "Sorry."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Punching someone."

James gave a consternated eyebrow arch.

"Lucy Weasley of Gryffindor and Katsuo Sinclair of Ravenclaw. Find your way to the stage now, please, bow, and begin!"

"Oh, man," said James, his face suddenly filled with pure joy. "It's boyfriend against girlfriend!"

"_What!_" exclaimed Albus, glancing up.

"Yeah, Lucy and Kat! They just started going out, didn't you know?"

Katsuo Sinclair was an Asian boy with dark skin and somewhat long black hair. He had a lip piercing and wore a sideways baseball cap, something not usually seen at Hogwarts. He somehow made this look extremely proper; he had a generally gentle demeanor but had a challenging glint in his eye as he stared down his girlfriend.

They bowed, and then raised their wands—and neither one moved.

It was a hilarious standoff. Neither one seemed to want to attack their romantic partner. Multiple times, one would twitch as if preparing to attack, and the opponent would prepare to defend, but the attack never came.

Lucy narrowed her eyes and smirked, and Kat seemed nervous.

Then, with a flash, Kat was flat on his back—Lucy had done it silently.

"Ah! Brilliant!" cried Professor Longbottom. "A perfect nonverbal Stunner—from a fifth year! I'd never have believed it in my Hogwarts days, but wandmaking is seriously improving… And, of course, _you,_ darling, are quite precocious. The winner is Lucy Weasley with a single spell!"

Lucy took the Dueling Tournament for the fifth years, and then Louis followed up for the sixth years. Albus was hoping he'd face off against Asher Pierce—his cousin's rivalry with the pure-blood bigot was highly interesting—but Pierce wasn't in the tournament this year. Albus wondered whether he'd lost the preliminaries or lost interest.

Molly and Gabriella Garland faced each other in the finals for the third year in a row, and their duel was nothing short of a spectacle. Professor Desulgon looked like he was about to cry with enthusiasm. The two girls looked like they were actually competitive duelists—Albus saw a lot of Enhancements, trying to recognize the different styles by using the terminology he'd learned the year before. Molly seemed to be more on the offensive, and as Gabriella was forming a very solid-looking spherical barrier around her position, Molly directed all of her offense towards a single spot on the Hufflepuff's defensive dome. Molly had cast some spells into the air in the beginning of the match which had formed balls of energy near the ceiling, and with a whip of her wand, they suddenly descended rapidly and smashed into Gabriella's barrier, shattering it instantly. Gabriella's barrier was gone, so she turned to the attack, but Molly set up a reflecting shield which caused Gabriella's Stunner to change direction and head right back her way, bashing into her knee, and she crumpled to the ground.

"Molly Weasley!" roared Professor Longbottom with delight. "That was—that was simply phenomenal! I've never seen a duel like that amongst Hogwarts students."

"You two should both be extremely proud of yourselves," said Professor Desulgon, wiping sweat from his brow. "That was brilliant. I'd be seriously afraid to take either of you on. You should consider competitive dueling in the future!"

"I think I might," said Molly delightedly. Gabriella shrugged after she was revived and laughed. Then the girls embraced in a tight hug—it was good to see the two opponents getting along so well.

Albus was still peeved from Lucas's victory, but at least his cousins had taken the tournaments in every year above him. This year was a landslide for Gryffindor—Ravenclaw took the first and second years, and Gryffindor took every tournament third year and above. Now that today's excitement was over, Albus could only hope that tomorrow, Hogwarts would pull off the same sort of landslide victory in the Triwizard Tournament's second task as Gryffindor did in the Dueling Tournaments.

O

Harry arrived at Hogwarts to escort the three Potter siblings to Beauxbatons for the second task via the Loch Stock Liner, because he was still nervous about sending them out in the open on any transportation whatsoever. Albus didn't mind so much, but Lily got rather seasick every time she boarded the LSL, and he and James spent the entire hour trip rubbing her back to soothe her.

The good thing about this method of travel was that they arrived an hour earlier than the Subterrestrial Express, which meant that Albus got to see Janelle early, before the task. They ventured to the stadium hand-in-hand and grabbed excellent seats in the front again.

Albus stared up at the arena. Hovering platforms were positioned all across the underground stadium. Some were dozens of feet long; others were only several inches across. They were all shaped and colored like clouds, and there was an open space right in the middle of the arena over which no platforms resided. Albus took all of this in, and then noted that there were several wizards stationed around the edges of the arena, their wands at the ready, looking up at the levitating platforms and smirking.

"Donna was over here all afternoon wondering what this is about," said Janelle. "She figured out that when you drop the golden gem from a great height, it flattened out like a pancake and started moving around on its own. What do you suppose is going to happen?"

Albus furrowed his brow at the arena. "Moving around on its own? Maybe the platforms are going to start moving."

"Oh, that would make sense," said Janelle, nodding. "That's what Donna thought. But, what is the task, do you think? A race across the platforms?"

"Maybe," said Albus. He glanced down at the floor of the arena and saw that it was covered in cushions. The arena wasn't large enough to have a race; there would have to be a lot of laps, and even so, that would be a very quick and very boring task. What, then, would they have to do?

"Maybe knock each other off," suggested Albus. "The clouds remind me of the stage in competitive dueling."

"That seems rather violent," said Janelle, but she pondered this silently.

"Or collect the most things that might be placed on the clouds—no, that's too similar to the last task—or they could be trying to catch something that's like a Snitch. A Quidditch match with the only players being three Seekers, you know?"

"Hm," said Janelle.

Donna, Rona, and Caspar crossed the arena underneath, climbing up some stairs to the champions' waiting room.

"Oh!" said Janelle, jumping up. "I am going to go say good luck—save our seats!"

"Okay," said Albus pleasantly, watching Janelle jog over to meet her sister.

He was lost in thoughts of their kiss when suddenly someone grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head backwards.

His mind flew immediately to Malseth, who had advanced on him in the last task of the tournament—but the face that sneered down at him was infinitely more terrifying than Malseth. It was Holly. The Hogwarts crew had arrived.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him through her teeth.

"What—Holly, I can sit with whoever I want!"

"_Whom_ever," corrected Aidan, jogging down, having noticed the situation.

"That's not what I'm talking about," she said. "I heard you talking with her, you colossal git. You just gave the Beauxbatons champion hints at what the task might be!"

Albus cringed. He'd already done that—had he really done it again?

"You're such an idiot," huffed Holly, quiet enough to avoid the notice of Harry, who was now talking to Wilcox. "You do realize that's the only reason she's into you, right? She thinks you can help her sister win the Triwizard Tournament. And apparently she's right! You're glad to give her hints and then she runs off to tell her sister before the task begins! I bet that's not even the first time you've helped her out!"

The color fled Albus's face in a heartbeat.

"And from the look on your face, I know I'm right," she said. "Trust me, the second this tournament is over, she's not going to talk to you—she's not going to respond to your letters—you're never going to see her again and you'll have to deal with being single _and_ being the reason Hogwarts loses the Triwizard Tournament. Congratulations."

With that, she turned and stomped back up the stairs.

"Don't… don't listen to her," said Aidan. "Unless she's right. In which case, you should probably, er, figure that out. Er… I have no idea what to say, so I'm just going to go back up and sit with the others?"

He climbed the stands awkwardly, and Albus was left staring at his shoes in utter horror.

Was it true? No—it couldn't be. The way she had kissed him—the way they'd talked—Janelle wasn't after her sister's title, she truly liked Albus for who he was. Or did she? Holly was right—directly after Janelle had asked about the task, she'd run off to talk to her sister…

Janelle was back in a few minutes, and she smiled warmly, but Albus found himself unable to do more than twitch the corners of his mouth.

The announcer from the last task took the center of the stage again. After a short speech in French, she spoke English for the rest of the crowd.

"Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!" she said. "The rules for this task are even more simple than those of the previous task. The champions must simply knock their adversaries into the tornado in the center of the arena, and the last champion standing will be declared the winner!

"Beauxbatons collected the most gems in our last round, so Donna Lombard may choose whether she wishes to start on a high platform, a low platform, or a middle platform. Rona Kendrace of Hogwarts will choose second, and will be given the option between the two that were not selected; Durmstrang's Caspar Engodska will start on whichever height was not selected. They may jump to different levels, but it must only occur after the start of the task. Now, please welcome our champions!"

The three teens stepped out into the open to thunderous applause. After a short word with the announcer, Donna Lombard was levitated to a cloud platform on the top of the stage; Rona took the lowest level, and Caspar was put in the middle.

With a blast of sparks, the task began—the wizards all around the edges of the arena lifted their wands, and a gigantic tornado spawned in the center of the map, and suddenly, all of the platforms shot into motion, rotating around the center of the stage like planets in orbit.

Caspar had shot a silent Stunner upwards towards Donna's cloud, but the spell missed when they both started moving. Donna was the only one who was apparently unfazed by the sudden movement, and Albus hated to think that was his fault. He almost felt Holly's glare on the back of his head, which was still sore from where she'd grabbed it.

Rona leapt through the air to a slightly higher cloud; as she jumped, she slashed a spell through the air which split Caspar's cloud in half. The cloud parted and then reformed, but Caspar was plummeting; with a quick reaction, there was suddenly a stream of ice under him, and he landed on his feet, skating along rapidly out of Rona's line of fire and positioning himself directly under Donna.

Donna appeared to have been expecting this, and a large battering ram dropped over the side of her cloud, smashing into Caspar's face and sending him careening off the ice into the center of the arena—he threw a wall of ice between himself and the tornado and he landed on the side of the ice like a spider on a wall… Caspar seemed to really like using ice-based spells.

Rona seemed to have been trying to dig under the ground, but it was resilient this time—the element of this task was sky and underground was apparently off-limits. Instead, seeing what had just happened, she fired a spell Albus had never seen before; the jet of the spell was gray like steel, and it zigzagged through the air completely unpredictably until it bashed into Caspar's ice wall, shattering it.

For a moment, Albus thought it was going to be over that quickly for Durmstrang, but then Caspar hooked himself onto Donna's cloud with a whip like a grappling hook that extended from his wand. He wrenched himself forward and Donna's cloud flew towards the swirling vortex instead; she leapt off just in time, parried a Stunner from Rona while falling, and grasped onto a cloud on the middle level and lifted herself up quickly. The Durmstrang crowd sighed with relief at Caspar's recovery, and the Beauxbatons crowd gasped at Donna's near miss.

The steely gray jet of Rona's previous spell was still there, even after Rona had taken her wand away. Rona jumped on top of the jet of the spell, which had apparently turned to solid steel, and ran along the top until she landed on a cloud in the highest point of the arena. She unleashed a strong gust of wind that almost pushed Caspar back into the twister. His next spell nullified the effects of Rona's and the wind stopped, and then a net flew out of nowhere from behind Rona and enveloped her, pushing her towards the vortex; Rona burst it into flames and then recovered her position on the highest level of the arena.

It went back and forth in this manner for some time, until finally, there was a development… but it wasn't pretty for the Hogwarts fans. Rona had shifted to the bottom and Donna to the top; Rona blasted herself into the air and shot a spell that struck Donna directly—and continued through her. Donna had made herself invisible again and had set a decoy, and the next spell was a hard blast of energy that knocked Rona head over heels backwards, and with a final shout, she disappeared into the whirlwind and was gone.

The Hogwarts crowd groaned in defeat; the Beauxbatons crowd erupted into cheers, and Janelle patted Albus's shoulder sympathetically but still beamed with pride.

Caspar was now alone with Donna. He didn't know where he was, so he set up a shield around his position on the ground, avoiding the unstable terrain of the cloud platforms, and stayed cautious, clearly mulling over a plan. He raised his wand high in the air, and a spray of blue-gray gas could be faintly seen emanating from the tip. Immediately, the temperature of the arena dropped so far that the entire audience was shivering. It was so cold that he could see his breath…

That was pretty brilliant—Caspar couldn't see Donna, as her Disillusionment Charm was pretty advanced, so he was searching for her breath.

Caspar jumped platform by platform to the top of the arena and shot a spell at some puff of vapor that caught his eye; Donna parried the Stunner and there was a short duel before Caspar's cloud was disintegrated beneath his feet. He fell and landed on a block of ice, but Donna knew his style and had been expecting it, and her wand let out an orange-red flare and the temperature of the room shifted immediately, and then all of the audience was sweating. Caspar's ice block was instantly coated with a slick layer of water and he slipped and fell; then the ice shattered when he landed on it, as it was too warm, and he plunged to the ground below. He hit the floor, which was cushioned, but he had a hard time getting up, and a gust of wind sent him spiraling into the tornado.

"Wow, Janelle," said Albus as she jumped up and down, clapping with extreme enthusiasm and pride. "Your sister is really good."

"I know she is!" she laughed. "Better luck to Hogwarts on the third task, Albus… maybe you guys will take second!"

Hogwarts stayed for dinner, but before that, Janelle tapped Albus on the shoulder and led him away from the crowd.

"Where are we going?" he asked curiously.

"In here," said Janelle, directing Albus to an empty classroom.

"What's in here?"

"I'm in here," she said quietly, smiling at him.

Albus knew what that meant, and his heart started to beat excitedly as she brushed some hair away from his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her, and she kissed him back, and it was wonderful. He loved this feeling; it was too bad they weren't attending the same school. He wanted to do this as much as possible.

Janelle laughed, her breath brushing gently like a feather on his face. "Now that's something I couldn't put in a letter."

"Too bad," laughed Albus back.

Janelle sighed. "The last task is based on the element of Sea, right?"

"Right."

"I wonder what that's going to be."

"Yeah," said Albus, growing slightly worried now.

"Do you have any idea?" she asked him, looking up in his eyes. "You've been pretty good at predicting these things so far. What do you think they're going to do?"

Albus bit his lower lip and looked away.

"What's wrong?" asked Janelle, picking up on this immediately.

"Er, sorry, but…" Albus's head shrunk back into his shoulders as he asked the question. "You're not just… asking me these questions… for Donna… are you?"

Janelle's eyes suddenly flooded, and she stared in shock at Albus, her lip quivering.

"You think… You think that I'm just _using_ you?" she said shakily. "You think I'm only interested in you to help my sister?"

"That's not true," denied Albus quickly—too quickly. "No—Janelle, it's just that when you ask me all these questions about the tasks—"

But she had already turned and, shoulders shaking, was sprinting from the room, a hand over her mouth.

Albus ran out to follow her, but the doorway was blocked by the sudden appearance of a familiar figure—Holly, who was in the doorway so quickly that Albus wondered whether Apparition was admissible inside Beauxbatons.

"Well, she's a pretty good actor, I'll give her that," mused Holly, clearly happy about something.

"What are you talking about?" raged Albus. "You made me ask her and now she's upset and I have to go—"

He tried to pass her, but she kept sidestepping, tapping her wand on her arm with a smug little grin distorting her usually pretty face.

"Albus, she stopped crying as soon as she left the room," she cackled. "She knows she can get to you by acting all innocent. Are you seriously going to let her continue playing you like this? Your magic may be dulled right now but I wasn't under the impression that your brain was. I honestly thought you were smarter than that."

He felt as though Donna's enormous battering ram had smashed him right in the heart, and his head suddenly felt heavy and light at the same time. He wanted to throw up.

Holly shrugged and left the room. "But if you want to keep dating her because she's hot, by all means, go ahead; it's not like I really care what you do."

Albus squeezed his eyes shut as tears started to well up. He ran out of the room, the opposite direction that Holly was headed so that he didn't have to deal with her conceitedness again, and found his father talking with Madame Maxime. He didn't care that the Headmistress of Beauxbatons was watching him cry; he just hugged his father and silently let the tears flow. Harry seemed to understand that his son needed to leave now, and after saying goodbye to Madame Maxime, he led Albus to where James and Lily were waiting for the Loch Stock Liner.

O

Albus was in a terrible mood when he returned from Beauxbatons all throughout the rest of the weekend. It was only slightly alleviated by mental images of punching Lucas, which was unusual; usually that brightened his mood completely. It did not help that all of the suck-up Gryffindor girls in years two through four were doting on Lucas for his victory in the Dueling Tournament and constantly reminding him that he was the best duelist in his year. As if his ego needed to be inflated any more.

When Lucas left for lunch with a few of his giggling fangirls, he left behind one of his class notebooks on his bed.

Albus caught sight of it and his mind started racing with all the devious things he could do while Lucas's belongings were unprotected. He could write some really awful things in the margins… he could hide it somewhere Lucas would never find it… he could booby-trap it… It would serve the American right for not using parchment like everyone else…

Some part of his mind that dictated his malicious actions was on overdrive today, and he quickly settled on an option: Resonance. He'd disintegrate Lucas's notebook, and then there would be nothing left of the notebook for him to find. Lucas would look for hours, for days, and he'd never find it. It would be impossible for anyone to know where it had gone except for Albus, and no one could ever pin it on him.

The only other person in the room was Exo, so Albus decided to put his plan into action now in case someone was going to come in soon. He crossed over to Lucas's four-poster and grabbed the notebook.

Exo looked over. "Albus? What're you—"

"I'm making Lucas's life as miserable as he's making mine," said Albus, checking the Resonance of the notebook.

"Wait—Albus, I wouldn't—"

Albus shot his energy through the notebook, and with the force of a small bomb, the notebook exploded.

Albus was immediately singed from head to foot and found himself suddenly smacked against the opposite wall. Lucas's bed was almost upturned, as were many of the beds near his, and small embers settled to the ground throughout the room. The force of the explosion had thrown papers into the air from all over, and the only thing in the room that seemed to be unaffected from the assault… was the notebook itself.

"What the hell, Albus?" coughed Exo, waving a hand in front of his face to try and dissipate the smoke there. "Honestly, I thought you knew better than that!"

A few third years from the common room peeked in to see what had happened; they swiftly exited again after seeing the damage inside.

"Did he leave that there on purpose?" demanded Albus, pointing at the notebook. "Did he do something to the notebook and set me up?"

"What—no! It's the same protective enchantments that are on every notebook and every textbook and every school supply ever! Only the owner can damage it in any way—are you all right?"

"I'm fine," said Albus.

He looked over at Lucas's bed again. The pillow had been blown to the side, and there was something peeking out from the pillowcase.

"What's that?" said Albus curiously, walking back over to the bed.

"Albus… leave him alone, will you?"

"Why?"

Exo heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes.

The pillowcase had been concealing a book of some sort. Albus extracted it slowly and looked at the cover.

"It's a diary," he said, smothering a laugh. "Lucas keeps a diary in his pillow? What a girl."

"Okay… now I'm actually a little interested," said Exo. "What's in it?"

"Nothing," said Albus, disappointed, flipping through all of the blank pages.

"Wait. Hold on just a moment."

Exo fished around in his bag and pulled out a bright red eraser.

"A Revealer?" asked Albus, holding out the diary to a random page.

Exo rubbed the Revealer furiously on the diary, and where it slid, Lucas's handwriting appeared. It was faint at first and grew more clear with every stroke, as if being reverse-erased.

_11/29/19_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today was the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. It's a lot like the Champion's Games in Salem except with schools instead of towns._

_Stupid Albus Potter wants to set up a duel again. He said that the first time he chickened out, he wasn't the one who told Boderight where I was going to be. I don't buy it. Who would have told him if not Potter? I find it extremely unlikely that Boderight just happened to be exactly where I was headed. He said he was in the trophy room but I would have seen him or at least heard him coming when I was leaving._

_This time, I'm really gonna shut him up. He's not going to chicken out twice. If he does I won't let him forget it._

_Well, enough about Potter. I just got word from my parents that my cousin is getting married! I can't wait to go back for the wedding, good thing it's during the summer._

"Albus… should we really be reading this?" asked Exo meekly, looking back at the door to their dormitory.

"Come on, live a little," said Albus, grabbing the Revealer and turning to the next page. Exo, however, backed off and shook his head no.

_11/30/19_

_Dear Diary,_

_I hate Potter. I hate him so much. I can't stand this place anymore. I just want to go home._

_Potter and I dueled and we knocked each other out. When we were both in the hospital wing he told me to go back to America. That's all I want to do right now. Nobody here actually likes me. They only like me because I'm smart. Or they think that my accent is funny. I miss my friends who like me for me. I miss Johnny and Carol and Ruto and Marla. I don't know why Potter hates me. I don't know what I did to him. I know he's just a bully and I know I need to just not pay attention, but he's so vicious that I can't just ignore him. He's always looking to pick a fight and no matter how hard I try not to let it get to me, it always does. I'm supposed to stay for the next four years after this one? I don't know if I could handle that. I hate it here and I want to go home._

The door opened and Lucas walked in, saying goodbye to all the girls he'd eaten with. He turned his head, stopping when his gaze zipped across Albus, sitting on his bed, reading his diary.

His face started steaming like the end of a game of Magma Gobstones, and he froze on the spot, apparently trying to determine what he should do—he'd been warned already that the consequences would be severe if he ever got caught dueling with Albus again—

He leapt forward with a roar and threw a punch directly into Albus's chin.

Albus fell backwards on the bed and gasped, then struggled to his feet on the bed and jumped off of it, tackling Lucas to the ground. He threw a hard punch and it made contact with Lucas's nose—he smiled internally, he'd been waiting to do that.

Lucas kicked him hard in the stomach and socked him hard in the throat; Albus staggered backwards, gagging, as Lucas jumped up with a bloody nose and charged at him again.

Albus took out his wand and held it out in front of him—Lucas grabbed it with both hands and ripped it from his grasp—

A second explosion rocked the room and darkness closed in on Albus's eyes so rapidly he didn't even have time to register that anything had happened, and he woke up in the hospital wing on Monday morning.

* * *

_**Credit to Pandinus for coining "The A-Team" for Albus, Alec, and Aidan. I never would have thought of that.**_

_**I have Lucas's cousin getting married in honor of Andy's cousin getting married. He told me a while ago and I've been looking for a place to insert a reference to someone's cousin getting married. Congratulations, Andy's cousin and fiancée whose names he neglected to mention!**_

_**Okay, questions time!**_

_**More than one person: Why didn't James and Lily help with the escape from the Sandblood HQ? Answer: They didn't have wands. Their wandless magic wouldn't have done much, except to tire them out, seeing as they haven't been trained to do it. The only reason Albus was so effective was because he was undergoing In Extremis, a phenomenon occurring at the brink of death, which locks a wizard's body into extreme combat mode, performing magic you've never dreamed of, at the cost of exhausting yourself so thoroughly afterwards that you will probably go comatose.**_

_**Rambkowalczyk: Are time turners used on the LSL? Is that the 30 second delay factor? Answer: No, they just only have 30 second eating breaks. It's a tough job!**_

_**Nega Patronus: Does Gallen Ingot have any relation to Voldemort? And what's up with his name? Gallen is like a shortened version of Galleon, and Ingot/Galleon are both currencies. Knowing you, it's probably not a coincidence. And one more question that has absolutely nothing to do with your universe, but do you think that a patronus would have any connection to a wizard's animagi form? It would seem as if it would, considering both are a reflection of the wizard. Oh, just thought of one more (Sorry) but if you are a werewolf, per se, do you think you could become an Animagi, or Botanimagi? Answer: Gallen Ingot and his father were both top members of Voldemort's regime. His name was taken from words having to do with "metal." I think Patronuses are usually also the Animagus form. But in my universe, you can't be a werewolf and an Animagus or any other Transfection; you can only have one. I forget what chapter that information is in. It's in the first book somewhere.**_

_**Tom: If someone is under marionettes or the imperious curse, does their boggart become the person that is controlling them? Answer: Several people asked variants of this question; it's a good one. I feel that for the Imperius Curse, it would still be the person's own fears displayed by the boggart, as their mind isn't completely replaced-it's just being given tempting suggestions that are hard to disobey. As for MM, I can't tell you the logistics of that potion yet, but you might find out in a little chapter in this book entitled "The Marionette's Medicine," or the chapter after that.**_

_**Aria: Is Lucas going to return after this year, or was his purpose just to be a rival to Albus? Oh, and is there a connection between Ingot and Maskorn, or are they completely unrelated villains? What is the whole purpose of the Gallen Ingot-Adelina Nelson backstory? Answer: Maskorn doesn't have a connection to Ingot other than plans for conquest. He was a Squib from birth. The purpose of Ingot's backstory? You're going to find out soon enough... After all, his power was seriously supernatural, and there still isn't an explanation for it. Maybe it has something to do with the fourth book's cover... :)**_

_**Taralani2362: !hat's your favourite book in the albus potter series that you've written so far and why? I'm just curious :P and who's your favourite character? Answer: Tough question. I really like this book so far but I have a feeling I'm going to most like the story that I'm writing, but that's because I really love the plots for all of them. My favorite plot that Andy wrote is for the seventh book because it's just a completely crazy action-packed combination of every little thing we've been leading up to in books one through six. My favorite character? Tough, but I'd have to give it to Albus. He's growing up, showing his flaws, and he's going to become a completely different person by the end of this book as a result of that.**_

_**That's all for the questions I can answer without giving something away! (If I accidentally missed yours, just ask it again.) See you on Saturday.**_


	14. Operation Albus Severus Potter

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

OPERATION ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER

O

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU," exploded Professor Longbottom more violently than the explosion which had put them in the hospital wing, "THAT I _NEVER WANTED TO SEE THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?_"

Albus nodded. Lucas was clenching his teeth together to keep himself from bursting into tears like last time.

"What happened?" demanded Professor Longbottom. "I've heard several different versions of the tale and I want to hear yours. So explain, right now, the whole truth."

"He stole my diary," blurted Lucas, pointing an accusing finger at Albus. "He was reading my diary, Professor, that's a clear violation of my privacy—"

"How did you find his diary?" asked Professor Longbottom, cutting off Lucas and turning to Albus.

"I noticed it sticking out of his pillowcase," said Albus. This was true, but he didn't mention the events leading up to the discovery of the diary. He felt somewhat guilty about this, since Professor Longbottom had instructed him to tell "the whole truth," but he didn't feel like revealing how awful he'd been acting.

"So you stole his diary and read it?"

Albus cringed. That was pretty awful, too, now that he thought about it.

"Yes, Professor."

"Then what happened?"

"Then he charged at me and started throwing punches," stated Albus simply before Lucas could jump in.

"Is this true?"

"Yes," grumbled Lucas. "And then he blew us both up along with the whole room!"

"I didn't do that, _you_ did!" spat Albus. "You tried to steal my wand when I was just trying to get you off of me, and obviously you were so mad that you cast a spell without realizing it—"

Lucas was shouting over him at the same time, and Professor Longbottom sighed into his cupped palms, an eye twitching. He held up a hand, and they both stopped and looked sheepishly over at him.

"I am appalled," said Professor Longbottom, "at the actions of both of you. Your parents will hear of this and you will both serve your punishments again. This time it will be a month's worth of detentions. And fifty points from Gryffindor."

"F-fifty points?" stammered Lucas. This was the second time he'd lost Gryffindor that much—hopefully this would damage his popularity even further… then again, it would damage Albus's as well…

"You two need to talk to each other and work something out," said Professor Longbottom. "I'm tired of this. Albus, I'm tired of seeing you bullying Lucas and I'm tired, Lucas, of watching you purposefully provoke it to get Albus in trouble. You are both completely in the wrong. I don't know why you don't like each other, but unless this rivalry turns at least to courteous avoidance, you may both suffer the most drastic punishment Hogwarts has to offer… the punishment which would be your last. Remember that well."

"Yes, sir," mumbled Albus, as Lucas opened and closed his soundless mouth like a fish out of water.

Professor Longbottom huffed and got up, shaking his head in disappointment at the boys as he left.

Albus placed his hands over his eyes. Lucas had called him a bully in the diary, and again when they'd woken up. He wouldn't have been too choked up about it, but Professor Longbottom had used the same word. _Bully._ It was a word he'd grown to hate, before James had settled down with the teasing that came as a package deal with having an older brother. His father had taught him all about how to deal with bullies if he ever encountered any. It never occurred to him that he might _be_ one. He took a step back, and looked at all of his behaviors from the perspective of a different person, and it was enough to make him want to be ill.

He was the exact definition of a bully.

Though he wasn't fond of Lucas in any sense, he made the decision right there and then: If nothing else, he would try to direct their association further down the path of mutually ignoring each other. It pained him to think that this was the way Lucas had been trying to deal with him for a while, almost as though this was proving Lucas better than him again… but if he didn't accept that _now,_ and if he continued on his immature ways, that would make him even worse of a person.

Lucas wasn't perfect. Evidently not, judging from the reactions Albus had provoked. But Albus was far less perfect, if he was taking enjoyment in treating Lucas this way. It was time he faced the fact that the only reason he didn't like Lucas was because…

Albus took his hands off of his face and blinked at the ceiling.

Why _didn't_ he like Lucas?

Lucas was cocky? But Albus was purposefully picking out all of the cocky behaviors he saw in his American counterpart, and using them to define the boy. He could probably do this for anyone. Thinking about it, he had to deem that Lucas wasn't really that cocky.

The only reason was because Lucas was continually making everything look incredibly easy, the way it _should_ be for Albus… which was constantly reminding Albus that he couldn't do the simplest spells.

If he couldn't deal with that, and still let it affect his behavior around Lucas, then at the very least, he could be civil. And that's what he would try first. Small steps would do it—he wasn't going to get over this rivalry any time soon; maybe never. But until he could finally compete with Lucas in the classroom, he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. And once he _could_ compete with Lucas in the classroom, _nothing_ would get the better of him.

"You can go," said Madam Birchbaum, waving them off. "Oh, and Albus, you might be interested to hear this…"

"What?" asked Albus, turning around curiously.

"Obydin Auchland has officially resigned from his post as Head Auror," she said, her big red lips in a very satisfied smile. "As of tomorrow, Gerald Stenet is taking over for him."

Albus had just been released from the hospital wing, but he felt he could run a thousand miles or more at this news.

O

"Today, I'm going to show you a handy little trick that you can add to _Expelliarmus,_" said Professor Westerling in Defense Against the Dark Arts on Monday. "If you add a little thrust to the end of your wand movement for the Disarming Charm, you can cause the spell to knock your opponent backwards a bit. Has anyone tried this before?"

Among the raised hands were Eftan, Rose, Lucas, and Albus. Professor Westerling's gaze fell on Lucas quickly.

"Lucas! Why don't you come up here and show the class?"

As Professor Westerling cast a quick Cushioning Charm behind him, Lucas hopped up to the front of the classroom looking confident.

Albus clenched his fists and teeth.

_Don't get mad. Don't get mad. You'd be just as happy to show off for the class if you were up there…_

"All right, Lucas, have a go. Everybody watch carefully!"

Albus squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see Lucas's smug little grin when he was finished.

_Baby steps. Ignore him._

Lucas cleared his throat and let out the yell.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Albus sighed and waited for the clatter of the wand, but no such noise struck his ears. Curiously, he opened his eyes, and saw Professor Westerling scratching his head with his wand still in his hand.

"You all right, there?" asked Professor Westerling. "Want to try that again? Not sure what happened…"

"_Expelliarmus!_" said Lucas, a little less confidently.

Professor Westerling's wand twitched, but remained in his grip.

"Something the matter?" asked Professor Westerling.

Lucas stared at his wand. "No," he said, sounding defeated. "It's… This is so odd. I can't… I don't feel any magic in my wand right now."

Albus's heart skipped a beat. That was precisely the same description which he himself had constructed the first time his wand had felt funny.

"_Expelliarmus!_" shouted Lucas a third time, and Professor Westerling's wand didn't even move an inch.

"Sit down, relax," said Professor Westerling. "Eftan, why don't you come up here? No worries, Lucas, probably just a hiccup…"

Lucas sat at his desk, trying to Transfigure and Charm random objects from his backpack, having no luck. He grabbed at his hair, and looked up; his gaze locked with Albus's.

Albus flashed back to their little fistfight; the image arose in his mind of Lucas grabbing Albus's wands, and the explosion that rocked the room when that occurred.

Had something happened to Lucas?

Had his wands done the same thing to Lucas as they'd done to him all those months ago before school?

O

For the next two weeks, Lucas's performance suddenly dropped so far that it was level to Albus's. Try as he might to avoid any further prejudice against Lucas, Albus was very happy to see this happen. Now Lucas knew how it felt to lose his magic. In addition, now everyone in the school was taking the problem seriously, if they hadn't before. It was clearly not a problem confined to Albus. His wands were undoubtedly the source.

Before Albus and Lucas knew it, they were back in the hospital wing together. This time, though, they were brought for examination. It was fruitless; Madam Birchbaum still could not find anything physically wrong with them.

"You're going to have to bring in a specialist," she told Professor Longbottom after frustrating herself for hours. "I haven't been trained for this sort of nonsense. Contact a Kineticist somewhere. You're going to need someone trained in identifying the motions of magic inside the body."

Professor Longbottom nodded and gestured to Albus and Lucas. They left the hospital wing, tight from hours of sitting motionless, and followed their Head of House towards the door leading out of the hospital wing.

"We're going to have to ask Professor Wilcox about this," said Professor Longbottom. "He knows a few excellent Kineticists, and I'm sure he'd want to hear about the problem. Don't worry—now that we know for sure the source of the problem, it won't take long until—"

Professor Longbottom was interrupted by a splash when he opened the door and stepped out. Curiously, he looked down, and saw that the floor was soaked with water.

"What on earth?" he mumbled, lifting one of his shoes up out of the puddle. Something was wrong, though—his shoe was perfectly dry when he lifted it, and was not dripping. The water rushed into the hospital wing, and Albus felt it slide under his shoes, but his shoes too remained dry when he lifted them up in turn to examine.

"What is this?" asked Lucas, and then a rushing sound caught their ears.

They turned towards the direction of the noise, and froze momentarily as what appeared to be a full river was rushing towards them through the hall of the castle.

Professor Longbottom slammed the door to the hospital wing shut as Albus and Lucas both turned and bolted from the scene; Professor Longbottom was right behind them, casting spells into the deluge which did nothing to stop it. It was surging forward far faster than they could run, and in a few seconds' time, the wave at the front of the river engulfed them, churning and tossing and turning them until it spat them back out on the other side; they landed in enough water to break their fall comfortably, but then the river slowly emptied until there was no more water beneath them except the puddle with which they had started.

Albus looked ahead where the river had gone—it was simply one big wave, traveling throughout the halls. He heard the screams of shocked people in the distance as the wave encountered them, too. Albus also abruptly became aware that, despite being engulfed by a wave, tumbled around, chewed up and spit out, he was still completely dry.

"What just happened?" asked Lucas, dazed and clutching his head.

"I… think I know," said Professor Longbottom.

He pointed to the ground behind them. Written in puddles on the floor were the words "Hail Loki, Pokey, Polo, and Pent!"

"Whoa," said Albus, impressed yet again by the ingenuity of his brother's friends. Professor Longbottom caught him smiling, and he shrugged. "That was pretty cool."

"Pretty intense," said Professor Longbottom, shaking his head. "I certainly hope nobody has a heart attack when that thing hits. Imagine Professor Dixon getting caught up in that? He'd shatter into dust when he hit the ground."

"Who're Loki, Pokey, Polo, and Pent?" asked Lucas, squinting at the words.

"Pranksters," said Professor Longbottom. "I thought, given the lack of incidents this year, that they might have been seventh years last year, who graduated. But… apparently not. I'm guessing they've got to be seventh years _this_ year now—what student not yet in N.E.W.T.-level courses could have come up the sorts of situations that happened last year?"

Albus beamed inwardly with pride. James, Marco, Gavin, and Barry had been _fourth_ years last year. That took some true talent. He wondered if his brother was every bit as smart and talented as he and Lily were—just in different areas.

Giving himself a mental slap for calling himself "smart" and "talented," words he would have criminalized Lucas for calling himself, he turned back to the situation, and made a mental note to ask James about it later.

He returned to the common room, and when most people had gone to bed, he quietly confronted James about it in the corner.

"Did you like it?" grinned James. "We call 'em Wetless Waves. We've been working on those all last term… we only perfected them a few weeks ago."

"I thought that was really cool," said Albus. "But no one got hurt… did they?"

"No one got hurt," said James, rolling his eyes. "And nothing got damaged—the waves ignore all inanimate objects they encounter. If we were held liable for damage, they wouldn't sell very well, now, would they?"

"You're planning to market them?" asked Albus interestedly.

"What?" laughed James. "You didn't think we were making them just to torture the teachers of Hogwarts, did you? Nah, there's joke-shop value in these pranks we're setting up. We're just making a name for ourselves here—word will spread outside Hogwarts, and we'll already have brand recognition when we leave."

"Are you planning to go into the joke shop business like Uncle George?" asked Albus. "_With_ Uncle George, maybe?"

"We could combine assets, perhaps," said James thoughtfully, "but not immediately. We want to do our own thing. The guys and I have discussed this a lot."

Albus smiled. One day, maybe he'd take his kids to Diagon Alley to visit their Uncle James in _Loki, Pokey, Polo, and Pent's Joke Shop,_ or whatever they'd end up calling it, just like his mother had taken him to visit _her_ brother's joke shop.

"Are you going to stay at Hogwarts for your seventh year?" he inquired.

"I certainly am. Mom would kill me if I didn't, and I wouldn't be able to start a joke shop if I was deceased."

O

Albus had written to Janelle twice since the incident at the second task; he wanted at least to talk to her. But both times, the owls had come back empty-handed (empty-clawed?) and looking him sadly in the eye as though they had failed. He decided to stop those attempts, opting instead to find her before the third task and talk to her. He also had sent an owl to Luna Scamander, explaining the new development, but she hadn't written back—he supposed she was possibly on the verge of a major development, and so she didn't want to send the letter until that happened, otherwise she'd have to send another right away. And his father had sent him a quick note about someone coming over from India especially to look into the magical block that Albus and now Lucas were experiencing, but he hadn't heard anything sense. He'd sent another owl to his father asking why there were three weeks without an answer, but he didn't hear back quickly from his father, either. His friends started to get annoyed at his constant requests to borrow owls.

Then, on the weekend before Easter, Albus was the recipient of _three_ letters, all bearing the best of news.

The first letter was from his father, relaying the news that an internationally famous Kineticist, Sahil Vivekkamal, was traveling to Hogwarts to meet with Albus shortly after Easter break. They wanted only an expert to look at the condition, in case the situation was fragile and something could go wrong, so they were bringing in the very best. Harry also said that he would be picking Albus up on the LSL next Saturday.

The second letter was from Luna, who told Albus that she'd been in touch with his father and would be coming to Hogwarts on the same day as Vivekkamal to tell him what she knows of Albus and his wands in case the information helps; she also had a theory which might help Vivekkamal in his analysis.

The last letter was from Janelle. She regretted the way they had parted last time and requested that Albus visit her family over the Easter holidays for Beauxbatons, which was positioned on the same week as the Easter holidays for Hogwarts—next week.

As Albus was drafting his responses in the common room, James walked over holding Gimmick, who was purring and nipping affectionately at his fingers. He peered over Albus's shoulder at the letter to Janelle; Albus covered it and looked up. "Hey."

"Hey," said James. He looked worried.

"What's going on?" asked Albus.

"You didn't tell Professor Longbottom anything about the Wetless Waves prank, did you?" whispered James tentatively. "Did you let anything slip?"

"Of course I didn't," said Albus. "Why? Is he onto you?"

"He's keeping a really close eye on me when I'm with Barry and Gavin and Marco," said James. "I think he's getting suspicious. I hope not—we've got two and a quarter more good years for mischief, it would suck to get caught now."

Gimmick clawed his way out of James's grip and jumped up to land on Albus's lap.

"That cat is a nosy little genius," said James, laughing and scratching Gimmick's head. "He found me and Barry under the Cloak setting off the Wetless Wave… ran behind us like he knew what was coming and didn't want to be caught up in it. Part-Kneazle cats are amazing. Is he coming home for Easter?"

"I usually let him stay here, he wanders around with Tippy."

"I wonder where they go when there are no people around."

_The hidden passage under the dungeons?_ wondered Albus.

"Well, see you around," said James. "And if Professor Longbottom comes asking you about my extracurricular activities… don't tell him anything!"

"I won't."

Albus lost himself in thoughts of the tunnel in the dungeons. What was down there? Some hard-to-pronounce name beginning with a D, according to Myrtle? Then again, the conversation in which she'd overheard that piece of information might not have had anything to do with the groaning under the school.

The door at the end of that passage could not be traversed by ghosts. What else was like that?

The Chamber of Secrets had to be like that. There was no way Salazar Slytherin wouldn't have foreseen the inevitable ghost who stumbles across the Chamber when going under the school. He had to have put the same anti-ghost protections around his Chamber as whoever made the door. And the Chamber was even further under the school than that door—perhaps the _Chamber of Secrets_ was the source of the groaning?

But then what was the door? Slytherin wouldn't have made it possible for anyone except his heir to access the Chamber of Secrets, so the door couldn't just be another passage into the Chamber…

He couldn't solve this mystery at the moment, and attempting to do so was thus far only managing to hurt his head. He had to trust that, whatever it was down there, Wilcox was taking care of it.

O

Wilcox seemed to be more stressed than usual, though, and Albus was sincerely hoping that it wasn't whatever was under the school which was causing this anxiety in their headmaster. He was irritable towards the other teachers, snapping at Professor Westerling at one point (though Albus couldn't hear any of the conversation), and whenever he looked at Albus, his face filled with worry. This was, to say the least, not very comforting.

Lucas, on the other hand, was having a horrible time in the six weeks between the start of his blockage and the beginning of the Easter holidays. At one point, when he was attempting skilled Transfiguration and doing just as badly as Albus had done in the beginning of the year, he turned to Albus and asked an honest question.

"How have you been dealing with this for a term and a half?" he grumbled, looking as stressed as their headmaster. "I can't even deal with this for a month and a half. I think I'm going to go crazy."

Lucas gripped his hair and took a deep breath, staring at his block of ice which he was supposed to be turning into a cow, but which had done nothing except turn slightly white with slightly black spots.

"It's going to suck for a while," said Albus, taking some pity. "You just have to… you know, keep practicing as much as possible. You'll be improving really slowly, and it'll be really aggravating, but you _will_ be improving."

Lucas looked up with the smallest hint of a gracious smile, and nodded.

"Okay."

Albus didn't need to cool down his emotions this time; they were cooling themselves. Maybe he wasn't doomed to hate Lucas's guts forever. Maybe this experience would change both of them—Albus would realize he couldn't be a bully anymore, and maybe Lucas would realize how much his popularity depended on his intelligence and make some changes to his behavior. Because Lucas's performance level had dropped, right after losing fifty points for Gryffindor, most of his "friends" were casually ignoring him now, and it had to have come as a serious shock. He had no right to be arrogant in the slightest at this point… that was for certain.

Or maybe it would all be fixed shortly after Easter break. They were to be examined by one of the greatest magical minds of the century so far. If he couldn't solve their predicament, then he didn't know who could.

_That_ thought… was also not very comforting in the slightest.

O

After the Loch Stock Liner took Albus and his father home, Albus decided he couldn't wait to confront his parents about the invite from Janelle, and he excitedly opened the letter for them. But when he'd finished reading it out loud, Harry and Ginny exchanged nervous looks, and his heart sank.

"What?" he said, expecting the worst. Family matters… We only get to see you so often during the school year…

"I don't want you going to the Lombards' residence," uttered Harry simply.

Albus coughed.

"Say again?"

"Albus, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go there," he restated.

"Why?"

Harry sighed and scratched his sideburns, evidently attempting to word his objection in a way that wouldn't raise a subsequent objection from Albus.

"Albus, do you know who Janelle's parents are?" phrased Ginny gently.

"No," said Albus, frowning. "I mean, I know they're Squibs—"

The answer struck him in the face.

"Listen, Albus," said Harry.

"That can't be the reason," said Albus, his heart pounding furiously as his fists clenched themselves in anger. "You can't be banning me from seeing my girlfriend because of _that._"

"So she's your girlfriend?" called James, popping his head in from the other room.

"Shut up, James."

"Albus, be nice," warned Harry. "And… yes, Albus. That's the reason. It's just too risky."

"You think Janelle only likes me so her parents can _KILL ME?_" roared Albus; this accusation was infinitely more painful than Holly's. What were his parents _thinking?_

"That's not true at all," declared Harry loudly, speaking over his son. "But we can't miss any precautions. I'm fine with you seeing her, when I'm around—"

"WHAT'S _WRONG_ WITH YOU?" bellowed Albus, his rage finally taking the steering wheel in his brain.

"Albus!" gasped Ginny.

"You listen to me now—_no, you listen to me!_" yelled Harry. "It's not that we suspect the Lombards, Albus, it's just that—we can't take any chances, not even the tiniest ones! You saw for yourself how many Sandbloods there were in that headquarters. There are a staggering number of Squibs involved in this epidemic! I don't immediately prejudice myself against all of them, but the fact remains that the proportion of Squib involvement in the Sandblood regime is enormously high, compared to any other type of people in any other group—I can't send my family members alone to the house of two people who, by default, have a very good combined chance of at least one being connected to the enemy, however slightly—"

"HOW CAN YOU SLANDER JANELLE AND HER FAMILY LIKE THIS—"

"Albus, I'm not _slandering_ anyone! No one's loyalties are being called into question—it doesn't even have to be a question of their involvement! Maskorn Malseth was at the Triwizard Tournament, he knows things he shouldn't know—he could very well know that Janelle likes you and could be watching their house, waiting for us to show up! And if you _were_ attacked while you were there, Merlin forbid… then, no offense to any Squibs, but Janelle's parents wouldn't even be able to protect you!"

Albus turned away from his father, snorting like a bull, and stomped up to his room. He couldn't _believe_ this was his father's response to a simple request to visit the girl he liked, whom he hadn't seen in a month and a half, and who invited him over after they'd ended on bad terms. He'd already accepted via owl—he hadn't imagined that his parents could deny him this visit. Now, not only would he have to cancel it, but he would have to do so without explaining why—lest he viciously offend Janelle's family—and he would just have to hope that this didn't fracture their relationship to the point where it couldn't be repaired.

His anger with his father lasted all week, because the vacation was a constant reminder that he was not with Janelle. And one day, when his father was out and his mother was giving a quick interview with someone who was writing a book about the Holyhead Harpies, he decided upon a fitting course of action.

Harry was spying on the Lombards? Well, then Albus would do a little spying of his own. An eye for an eye.

Albus hurried up to his parents' room and kicked open his father's private dresser. If Harry was spying on an innocent family without letting them know, then it was only fitting that someone should spy back without his knowledge. He opened the top drawer and stood on the bed to look in. There were stacks of highly unorganized papers, and at the top was a small folder. Albus snatched it and flipped through it, pulling out a random paper and scanning it quickly.

_Auror Office 29/3/20_

_Wells, Kiernan, Centina: Trm. O11494_

_Medrow: Cy._

_Hennery: Cy._

_Swoss: Cy._

_H T. Leg. 513 Cy._

_Rsn. G. 513_

_Operation Rogan Medrow (11494) -Complete (ALL SUSPECTS IN CUSTODY)_

Albus grumbled in frustration; this didn't tell him anything. He assumed "Cy." stood for "Custody," so all he knew was that as of three days ago, three people named Medrow, Hennery, and Swoss had been taken into custody. What good did that do him? No, he needed to find something big… something he could take pride in having learned through this spying venture, so he didn't have to focus on how angry he was with his father. He perused the papers until he found something that wasn't written in Auror code… something he could read. He found that in a letter addressed to his father from Geri Stenet, who was now Head Auror.

_Auror Office 2/4/20_

_Rcpnt. Harry Potter_

_Harry—good news and bad news. Bad news, Medrow got away. He had some helpers; thirty people swarmed the holding cell and got him out. We captured eleven of them. If they were willing to risk that many combatants to get Medrow out, he definitely is either crucially important to Legion 513, or he knows something. Either way, get yourself and Ron out there tracking him; we'll need as many of our best as we can get out there. But don't worry, because I think this good news outweighs the bad… by a considerable amount, in fact._

_The good news is: WE'VE FOUND THE SANDBLOOD BASE. Yes, we've found the place where your family was being held. It's located in Tunisia. So, a bit off our original estimates, but it's all being worked out. Get this: A Muggle found it for us. He analyzed, using science and technology, all of the available information: the sand that came off your clothing, a squished insect on the bottom of your shoes, and a piece of a plant that had come with you in your Apparition. He found that the only place from which these three things could all have originated was in Tunisia (don't ask me how), and we combed the desert there… We did it. We really owe the Muggles one. We should use their resources more often—Merlin knows they're using enough of ours. And Auchland always refused to connect with Muggle minds… Shows why he's not here anymore, eh?_

_We'll be using a combination of spells and Muggle sonar to map out the place so that we have a good idea of what the inside of the base looks like before we raid it. That, and we'll be consulting your memories of the incident. We're also looking over the protective enchantments. We were surprised to learn that there were, in fact, protective enchantments on the Sandblood base; we'd have thought the Squibs were too self-assured in their Muggle technology to use it. _Revelio Totalus _is the only one we've identified so far, and we've seen that before, many times, so it shouldn't be too much of a worry. There are others, of course. I'll give you updates on the whole situation as soon as I can. Let Helio know and see if he has any ideas._

_We don't want anyone to know we've found the base, because the Sandbloods always kill themselves when we capture them, and we don't want to give them the heads-up to start preparing plans to die if they fail. Put this in your fancy little dresser that only opens when a Potter kicks it._

_Geri_

Albus flipped towards the more recent of his father's papers, and one of them seized his eye immediately when he saw what was written on the bottom. He read the whole thing through with bulging eyes.

_Auror Office 6/4/20_

_Potter, Weasley, Aubrey, Chinch, Falagair, Venin, Emmett, +Ndf: O11501_

_Sandblood Headquarters: Tunisia._

Revelio Totalus _and_ Novida Singulum _active on headquarters._

_S rec: Inf, MDP&A, UAE. +Sth. Prior experience needed._

_Operation Albus Severus Potter (11501) -Tentative (HOLD TO 26/4/20)_

He clutched the paper tightly in his hands and read the last line over and over until his eyes were sore.

_Operation Albus Severus Potter._

What in the _hell_ could the Auror Office possibly be planning… having to do with _him?_

He heard the door open as Ginny wished the interviewer goodbye; knowing he had no further time to examine his father's materials, he stuffed everything back into the folder and the folder into the dresser, slid the drawer shut, and sprinted stealthily back to his room to digest the discovery.

* * *

**_I'm really excited for the end of this book. The climax of this book is going to be pretty sweet :)_**

**_QUESTIONS_**

**_blitzer99: Because humans are only immune to the curse when they are turned into animals, what would happen to the animagus if it was in human form and was bitten by a werewolf? Answer: According to my laws, the animagus would lose his ability to transform, and would become a werewolf._**

**_Guest: Which of your books will be the longest? Answer: The last one. They might actually just keep increasing in length to the end._**

**_ARega1s: Will you use the Chamber of Secrets through the rest of the series or at least this book? Is Holly just jealous of Al and his new girlfriend or was she serious about Janelle only liking Albus for the hints? And when will Scorpius become a more important character in the series? Answer: I mentioned it here... Its importance may be revealed later, as will the importance of Janelle, Holly, Scorpius, and pretty much everything else. I can't give away too much!_**

**_Monkeywoman14: Since James is on the cover of the next book does that mean he's going to be a large part of it? Answer: Yep. Larger than any of the first three books, definitely. He's a main factor in the main events of Book 4. He's also going to be important in one of the most important parts of Book 5._**

**_See you on Wednesday again._**


	15. Shatterbolt and Frostflame

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SHATTERBOLT AND FROSTFLAME

O

Albus walked out of breakfast a little queasy on Monday morning after hearing Alec define several colorful vocabulary terms he'd never heard before. He was surprised to see Luna Scamander waving to him.

"Hey!" he said, running over excitedly. "You didn't tell me you were going to come today!"

"Yes, last-minute decision," she said. "Sahil Vivekkamal arrived a week early."

"Early?" asked Albus. "Did he have an appointment that was cancelled or something?"

"Sahil is from a different country," she said. "Their rules for 'appointments' and matters like that are very different from ours. They don't schedule events in time blocks. …It's hard to explain. But he's here now, and that's better than if he'd decided to come a month late without notifying us, which he's been known to do."

"Oh. Definitely better."

"Where's Lucas?" asked Luna. "I'll need him, too. He's got the same problem now, after all."

"There," said Albus. "Hey! Lucas!"

Lucas looked around with a nasty glare at first, and then he saw Luna and his gaze softened. He jogged over meekly and waved hello.

"Hi, Lucas," said Luna. "Remember me? I matured your wand when you arrived and then found you your second one. Beech and bone of ramora?"

"Yes, and mahogany with Kelpie hair is the first."

"Oh yes, I remember," said Luna, something twinkling behind her eyes. "Normally considered a slightly substandard wand core, but whoever was your wandmaker back in America knew what he or she was doing… Despite being a generally less effective wand core, your potential brings out the best in that wand and it works remarkably well with you for some reason."

"Worked, past tense," said Lucas, looking very downcast. "It doesn't work anymore."

"Yes, and I have a theory about that after months of consideration and deliberation," said Luna.

"You do?"

"Yes, and I'll share it with you when we go down to meet Sahil," said Luna. "It'll help occupy the time while he's testing you."

They entered the hospital wing, having to skip Defense Against the Dark Arts. A bald man in strange, very loose and long robes was waiting for them.

Luna introduced them as they took in this oddly-dressed man. "Sahil, this is Lucas Lotor and Albus Potter. Boys, meet Sahil Vivekkamal, one of the most highly acclaimed Kineticists in our current world."

"Thank you kindly," said Sahil with an Indian accent. "I will begin now by asking you several questions. What did you eat for breakfast today?"

Albus was taken aback; he'd expected the questions to be more… logistical.

"I had, er, toast," he said.

"Cereal," said Lucas.

"Anything on the toast? And what kind of cereal?"

"Jam on the toast," said Albus.

"Lucky Charms," said Lucas, embarrassed. "I missed them and my mom sent some from home."

"I am not familiar with these Lucky Charms," said Sahil. "Please explain?"

"Milk and, er, whole grain, I think? With marshmallow bits."

"What to drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"At breakfast; what did you drink?"

"The milk in the cereal."

"Orange juice," said Albus, trying to decide whether he was losing faith or losing his composure from suppressing laughter, and trying not to let Sahil notice whichever it was.

"Good. Anything else to eat or drink this morning?"

"No."

"Nope."

"Good, then we can get started," he said. "Mr. Potter, please remove all clothes on the upper half of your body."

Albus complied, though he felt odd doing so.

"If you speak to me while I am conducting my experiments, I will probably fail to respond," he warned. "I am deeply connected to your inner energy during my work and my aural capabilities will be minimal. It is as if I am invested in a very good book."

Sahil placed one finger along Albus's spine and the other hand at the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply as if asleep.

"Don't worry about Sahil," said Luna. "He does this whenever he needs to take a look at a person's inner energy, and how that energy may be blocked or distorted. He already knows my theory, so I'll tell it to you while he's working.

"Your troubles, Albus, started right after you left my shop with your second wand. Correct?"

"Yeah."

"But I remember handling that wand that day, and nothing seemed wrong. With you or with the wand. And I didn't see anything happen when you took the wand—all I saw was an especially happy wand, choosing its proper owner. And you said that you first felt the effects after trying to cast Patronuses with both wands?"

"That's when I'm pretty sure it started."

"And you had an odd feeling in your wand after several attempts with the Patronus… which you tried with both wands."

Sahil shifted his hands to Albus's stomach and throat.

"That's right."

"Let us see if Sahil can confirm my theory," said Luna. "You see, I detected a highly unusual level of sentience in your first wand—the experimental wand with the core of Devil's Snare."

"You can put Devil's Snare in a wand?" asked Lucas, surprised.

"I don't usually," said Luna. "And I probably won't do it again anytime soon. As powerful a core as it is, it seems to have produced some problems."

"Everyone's been telling me that it's not my wand," growled Albus. Sahil moved his hands to Albus's forehead and crown.

"That's because there was nothing wrong with your wand when I checked it," said Luna. "And it was proven that your wand wasn't the source of the problem when you used Exorian's wand—you still weren't able to do much magic properly, you said."

"But I did a little _better_ with Exo's wand than with mine," protested Albus.

"That's because when you were holding either of your wands, they could remember who was using them," said Luna. "Or so I think. Here's what I think happened: Your wands got jealous of each other."

"Jealous?"

"Wands have complex emotions. Strange and abnormal for us, sometimes, but this one, we can understand. Your Devil's Snare wand could sense when you were holding it, and seized up whenever you were holding it—but not when it was away from you, like when you sent it to me. That's why I couldn't sense anything. It was much more sentient than your second wand, but some of its sentience got transferred to your second wand when they were connected through your body. The second wand also became jealous, and underwent the same phenomenon."

"But I still couldn't perform up to par with anyone else's wand," said Albus as Sahil moved to grip his arms. "Why wouldn't I have done better with Exo's wand if that were the case? And you said it wasn't my wands that were the problem."

"We didn't think it was possible," said Luna. "For several complicated reasons that seemed watertight. But we'd never seen wands like yours before. And here's the kicker—where it gets really theoretical. Try to follow."

She took a deep breath; unconsciously, Albus followed her and breathed deeply.

"I think that your wand attacked your energy paths."

Albus frowned; he didn't quite understand what Luna was saying.

"Er—what was that?"

Sahil moved up Albus's pant legs to grip them just above the knee.

"Your body has natural channels, like veins for blood, where energy flows from different parts of your body into your magical instrument to be used. In this case, your wand backfired because it was angry, and consciously constricted those channels, decreasing the amount of magic that could flow through them. This is what I think happened—Sahil might think differently once he's done, but it's the only explanation I could entertain which made any sense to me. I think your wand invaded your body as Devil's Snare is prone to do, sliding metaphorical tendrils of magic through your energy channels, and almost entirely blocking them off. Therefore, your ability to cast spells was drastically diminished, because you could never supply very much magic to your spells—the magic in your body couldn't get through the constricted channels. Does this make any sense to you or does it sound like I'm speaking Gobbledegook?"

"It kind of makes sense," said Albus. Lucas nodded.

Luna turned to Lucas; Sahil moved back to Albus's arms and ran his fingers up and down. "I only came up with this theory once I heard about what had happened to Lucas, and pieced together that it could only have come from contact with your wands," she said. "I would have been stumped otherwise; there were too many possibilities and all of them seemed equally unlikely."

Sahil stepped away from Albus and cleared his throat. "Blocked," he said to Luna, nodding. "Very blocked. With decreasing degree as we move away from the hands. Your theory may be correct. Either way I believe the solution would be the same. Massage therapy and meditation."

"Meditation?" asked Albus, disappointed. "That didn't work for me."

"Special meditation. Instructing your chi to eat away at the barrier. It is difficult and I guarantee it will be very different from anything you have tried. I will show you after I have confirmed the condition is identical in your partner."

"I've done advanced meditation before," chirped Lucas.

"American meditation is crap," said Sahil, placing his hands on Lucas's arms.

Lucas looked highly affronted at this statement; Albus accidentally snorted.

"So I think," concluded Luna, "that your wand hexed you into being unable to do magic. This is really good to know."

"I'll say," said Albus.

"For more reasons than just for you," said Luna. "Didn't you say the Sandbloods were interested in your condition?"

"Yes," said Albus, his face clouding over as he remembered.

"Well, they can't do this to anyone without magic," she said. "And no one knows how to consciously do this to another person, or else we'd all be in serious trouble if the Sandbloods found out."

"You don't think they're capable of finding out?" said Albus with worry.

"When in all of magical history, no one has created a spell to do anything like this to another wizard… no, I don't imagine that the process will be uncovered by people who are unable to test the methods themselves," said Luna.

"They have wizard puppets."

"The Marionette's Medicine doesn't exactly put your mind into the body," said Luna. "It just drastically changes a person's obedience so that they know what you want without you saying anything, and it does this so effectively that it's like you're controlling a marionette with your mind. It's a scary potion; I hope you never encounter it. But my point is that they wouldn't be able to _feel_ the results of their puppets' attempts, and so when the Marionette's Medicine runs out, all progress will be lost; the puppets wouldn't be able to communicate their advances accurately to anyone else. It's very hard to give someone instruction on a self-invented spell; it takes a lot of wizards who study that sort of thing to write textbooks on the subject. It would be impossible for them to invent a spell through a chain reaction of tiny epiphanies."

"The Marionette's Medicine can run out?"

"It only lasts for a lunar cycle at a time. Once it runs out, the person regains their mind. Any MM given before a prior dose runs out would fail to do anything extra. So the Mastermind—that's what they call the person who is administering the MM—the Mastermind has to wait until the person regains their mind before administering any more MM."

"Then people could escape, in that small window of time between when the MM runs out and when it's given again," said Albus hopefully.

"It's not that easy—the Mastermind would know to calculate exactly when everyone will need another dose. He would take away their wands and lock them up a day in advance or so, until he can give them the potion again. In fact, that was the condition of the Ministry workers whom your father discovered, who were strapped down in the Sandblood fortress. But yes, what you said is very important and could help some people escape if mistakes are made."

"What else can we do about MM?"

"Truth serums," said Luna. "It's been proven that a person under MM will speak any truths known by the Mastermind if given truth serum—or, at least, they will speak any truths that were known by the Mastermind at the time that the MM was consumed. So we can ask about the identity of the Mastermind and where we might find him, if we get any people who are under MM. We actually just barely missed the window with those people your family rescued from the Sandblood headquarters. They were strapped down because it was time for another dose—they were rescued just as they were overcoming the effects, so we couldn't get any information out of them, unfortunately."

"Same exact condition," said Sahil, pointing to Lucas when he had finished his examination. It took less time for Lucas—then again, he already knew what he was looking to find in Lucas. "Same blockage. Same effects. It makes sense. I will need to do exercises of meditation while I have the Manusseuse do their job."

Luna turned away.

"What's a Manusseuse?" asked Lucas, and Albus was pleased to hear that there was something he _didn't_ know.

"Enchanted hands to massage you while I do my other job," said Sahil.

Luna turned back, red-faced; it was clear she was trying not to laugh.

"What's wrong?" asked Albus.

"Oh. Nothing," she dismissed. "It's just… those Manusseuse products have a reputation… because some people use them for… other, less socially acceptable things… Never mind. Forget I mentioned that."

Sahil took two strong, masculine-looking hands out of a small box and released them into the air.

"Kinetic massage," he said smoothly; they zoomed over to Albus and Lucas. "Boys, lie yourselves down upon your backs."

Albus and Lucas did so, and immediately, the hands dove down on them. One of the hands was gliding along Albus's arm, applying pressure at just the right points; the feeling was heavenly. After a long monologue intended to relax them, which greatly succeeded, Sahil started requesting that they bring certain images into their minds.

"Picture a long beach."

The pristine beach at Athens surfaced in Albus's mind. He smiled as he imagined the Loch Stock Liner bursting majestically from its waters.

"Picture the sand. Picture the darker sand which is nearer to the water."

The image leapt itself willingly into Albus's vision. The hand began massaging his head.

Sahil's slow and deep voice was incredibly effective in conveying his intentions. "There are words upon that sand. Something about your difficulties in the classroom. What do they say?"

_I can't do magic. My life is miserable. This blockage is ruining everything. I can't be the student I want to be._

"Make waves. Make waves, boys. Those words will not last; neither will the situations they depict. And you have control over that. Relax yourself. Loosen every muscle in turn. The more muscles you loosen, the bigger the wave will be. You are swimming in the ocean; let your arms float freely up. Let them be limp. Let your legs loll. You are the ocean. Whatever may happen on the shore, you are so great of a body that it will hardly affect you on the whole. All you have to do to overcome it… is wash the words away."

Albus watched in his mind's eye as a magnificent wave crested and slapped the shore, obliterating the words that he had pictured there; the shore came away clean.

"Your energy is the wave. The block in your energy are the words on the shore. I want you to create a wave inside your heart and let it pulse out. Do this for me now. You can overcome this dilemma if you only make the wave big enough—and you can do that. Make it happen."

Albus didn't remember anything that occurred after this—he drifted off as if to sleep.

But when he woke up, he felt… different.

He turned over to Lucas, who was looking back with an impressed look on his face.

"I think we have done it," said Sahil smoothly, and Albus and Lucas sat up simultaneously, shouting, "Really?!"

Albus grabbed up his wand from the table beside him.

"Wait," said Sahil, and Albus's heart fell. "A fair few warnings.

"Firstly, Mr. Potter, do not allow anyone to borrow your wands. Either of them. This situation could happen again, very easily, with any slight provocation such as the fight between you and Mr. Lotor."

"Understood," said Albus.

"Also for Mr. Potter… Use your wands equally. Show no preference. When you use them both, switch your dominant hand's wand. And keep in your mind that you have no preference. This image will become reality if you believe it hard enough, even if it fails to be true in the beginning.

"Now, for both Mr. Potter and Mr. Lotor… but especially Mr. Potter… Be careful when you perform magic in the near future. Your magic has, for some time, been unable to release itself normally during wand magic. You have likely noticed this through an increase in the ability of your wandless magic. This is going to have severe effects for some time—more time for Mr. Potter, as it has been a long time since he was able to properly perform a spell. The effect is this: Your magic will be extremely powerful as the excess magic from months of inaction will explode out of you until it reaches its normal levels again. Expect this, and do not aim your magic at anyone until this is resolved… not even a Disarming Charm or any small hex; it may end up causing explosions. So take extreme caution, tread very carefully, and inform me if anything has gone wrong—though I am confident that is not the case."

"Albus, by the way, I want you to picture a different image," said Luna, smiling. "Picture a man who has very heavy weights strapped to his hands for months. It will be very annoying while that's going on, of course, but don't you think he'll have gotten very strong—able to lift much heavier objects—once the weights are removed?"

"He would," said Albus, seeing where she was going with this image.

"That's you," said Luna. "You've been getting very efficient at spell-casting because you've had to work very hard to do anything. That's caused you to learn how to use all of your energy to the best of your ability… and I think it's going to have strengthened you a lot. I think you're going to excel even further now that this is over."

Albus and Lucas walked to the end of Defense Against the Dark Arts together.

"I feel great," said Lucas, a bounce in his step. "Don't you?"

"Excellent," said Albus. "I feel like I could do anything."

"Like cast a Shatterbolt?" laughed Lucas.

Albus stopped walking for a moment, considering this.

"That's a really good idea," he decided.

"You really think you could do it?" said Lucas. "I don't know if I could—I haven't had the magic building up in me for as long as you. You'd get an instant perfect grade in Diwand Spells and an exemption from its part of the A.R.M. exam if you could do it. But you'd have to try soon, before that buildup wears off."

"I could try tonight," said Albus. "Hey… thanks, Lucas! That was a really good idea."

"You're welcome. I'd be really impressed if you could do it."

"I'll try," said Albus.

The odd thing was that he didn't have to pretend to be friendly… he was genuinely feeling these emotions.

"Are we friends?" he asked Lucas awkwardly.

Lucas pondered this for a while. "Um. Huh. I… don't know."

"I feel like we are, but I feel like we shouldn't be," said Albus.

"I know what you mean. Up until today I still… Oh. I wonder…"

"What?"

"I think we're just both in really good moods because we're so relaxed from the massages," said Lucas. "Maybe we shouldn't call ourselves friends until we decide that in our right minds."

"Will do," said Albus as they entered the classroom, sitting next to each other, which drew shocked stares from nearly everyone else in the room.

O

"Professor Dixon?" called Albus tentatively during a short break in their professor's speech. (Admittedly, there were a lot of short breaks during Professor Dixon's speech, but he chose a longer one.)

Professor Dixon twitched as he stopped himself from continuing. He looked up.

"Potter. Yes… Potter?" he wheezed.

"I'd like to try to perform a Shatterbolt and a Frostflame," said Albus.

The class was completely taken aback at this announcement. Albus hadn't performed a spell all day, and most of them were unaware that he and Lucas had undergone treatment for their problem.

"You would like… to attempt… Shatterbolt… and Frostflame?"

"Yes, sir."

Professor Dixon shrugged. "Then… you must do it… outside… after class."

"Okay, sir."

"Severe injury… is almost surely… unavoidable… if you were to… use Shatterbolts… inside a building… even Hogwarts. It is not… a spell to be… taken lightly."

Professor Dixon continued with his lecture, and when the class was over, Professor Dixon yelled to the portrait in the back of the room. His yell was softer than the normal person's shout, but it got the attention of the portrait's occupant.

"Alma! …Alma!"

"Yes, Yohn?" replied the old woman in the portrait.

"You may inform… Professor Wilcox… that a student… is attempting… a Shatterbolt… and a Frostflame. He wished… to bear witness… if a student… attempted these spells."

Albus grimaced as the painted woman left to enter the Headmaster's office. Great. Professor Wilcox would be watching excitedly. But no pressure.

"Would anyone else… care to attempt… these spells tonight?"

Many of the students raised their hands, including Holly, who was sneering at Albus. He'd never seen her sneer before.

They trekked outside—Professor Wilcox beat them there from six floors higher because of Professor Dixon's speed which could likely be matched by a snail moving against hurricane-force winds. When they finally got outside, Professor Dixon called for volunteers to try first.

It became a sort of joke—no one's attempt came close to any result at all, and small sparks for either spell were greeted with triumphant cheers. Everyone tried, and no one succeeded. And then there were no more volunteers, and it was Albus's turn.

Wilcox had a twinkle in his eye as if he knew the reason why Albus had chosen today to attempt this spell. He deliberately took a step back.

Albus cleared his throat. It was a warmer night than average. The soft breeze felt wonderful.

"Which spell will you… attempt first?" asked Professor Dixon.

"Frostflame," said Albus, cracking his knuckles as he reached for his wands.

He remembered the theory written on Shatterbolts and Frostflame by Professor Desulgon. He'd read those words so many times, imagining in his mind that he was able to do them… It was always a welcome experience to venture to the land of fantasy, where he had no troubles with his wands and he could do any spell.

It was time to make that dream a reality.

"_Frisorba Vitigida!_" called Albus, directing his wands at the fallen branch that everyone else had gone after.

He instantly knew he had succeeded.

A small blue spark leapt from his right-hand wand. The second wand poured energy into the spark; he could feel it rushing through his body. Finally, his energy could be put to use. The spark exploded and a wisp of flame popped out, slithering through the air until it struck the log and ignited; a roaring fire grew there, but it cooled the air instead of heating it.

The two professors gasped in unison with the class, and then, slowly, applause broke out; Lucas had started it.

"Shatterbolt!" called Professor Dixon, before it got too loud. He was clearly as excited as his old limbs could show, and he was shaking.

Albus didn't waste any time, riding the coattails of his previous success.

"_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus!_"

The energy inside of him leapt into action; he was probably using it all up at once, but it was worth it. A bolt of lightning erupted from the tip of his wand, lighting up the night so violently that it blinded most of the class, and Albus had to squint to keep staring, to keep his concentration, as he added the shout of "_Expulterris!_"

He could see nothing; all light was blotted out by the lightning bolt in front of him, but he could hear the most hellish of noises, and when it cleared, he could see (just barely through the black blotches in his vision) that the ground under the prior position of the lightning had been torn apart.

The class cheered without interruption now, everyone starting at the same time, going almost crazy at the accomplishment. Albus grinned and sighed deeply with content.

He had returned to the spotlight.

O

Several days later, Albus's remarkable run of energy came to an end. Lucas began to see Albus at his natural best, and was grudgingly impressed. This pleased Albus to no end. After they had both recovered from the good mood of the massage therapy, they still weren't friends, but they certainly weren't enemies any longer. They were, however, great classroom rivals, and Rose and Aidan got another competitor for their practical grades.

Albus and Lucas, though, weren't the only students who went through an incredible transformation. Alec seemed to have had a sort of epiphany at around the same time that Albus and Lucas's conditions were cured, and he suddenly started to instantly perform perfectly every spell that was taught to them in class. His attention turned to more advanced material in his free time, which he ate up quickly. It was incredibly awkward to see Alec studying, but that's what was occurring.

For the next few weeks, Albus, Aidan, Alec, Rose, and Lucas were all occupied with studying for their exams, which were approaching with, as Rose put it, the speed of a "weeping angel." Albus took her word for it.

He had to worry more than anyone about the proximity of exams. He had been unable to learn any of the spells upon which he would be tested, and would have to learn all of them on his own in the month and a half before the exams. But despite this stress in his life, he couldn't help but also be occupied with something else. The mystery of "Operation Albus Severus Potter."

It shouldn't have worried him as much as it did. Everything was going so smoothly. Albus had his magic back. He didn't have as bitter of a rival anymore. Janelle had forgiven him for cancelling the Easter trip. And out in the world, their new Head Auror was actually competent, and they knew the location of the Sandblood base. Why no action had yet been taken, Albus could only guess—perhaps they wanted to observe the Sandbloods without the Sandbloods knowing they were being watched. More intelligence might be gained that way.

He didn't expect his questions to be answered… but they were, and quickly.

The Friday which ended the second-to-last week before his exams, Wilcox invited Albus to his office. Albus jogged up to the seventh floor and gave the password.

"Augurey."

The stone gargoyle leapt aside, and he stepped onto the staircase. He reached the oak door and knocked, wondering what this could be about.

The person who opened the door was not Wilcox, but Harry.

Albus jumped onto his father gleefully. "Dad!" he said. "I got my magic back!"

"I know, you wrote me about it and I wrote you back," laughed Harry. "I'm so glad you finally got that sorted out. It had you so down for so long."

"Did Luna tell you why it was happening?" asked Albus as they sat down in chairs in front of Wilcox's desk, where he sat with a big smile.

"She did," said Harry. "I couldn't believe it when I heard it. I've known—and experienced—some pretty strange wandlore, but that took the cake, I think. A wand blocking off its owner's ability, even to the extent where you can take the wands away and it still stops you from using magic properly? It's pretty absurd."

"So what brings you here?" asked Albus.

"We had… an idea," said Harry. "Well… Helio here had an idea, I should say."

Albus tilted his head curiously.

"I guess it was my idea," mumbled Wilcox, shrugging. "Doesn't matter. Point is… it's an idea. And it could save many innocent lives."

"We've found the Sandblood base," said Harry excitedly.

_I know,_ thought Albus, but he couldn't let his father know that he knew, and he pretended at his best to look excited.

"I know, it's fantastic," said Harry. "But there are some problems."

"The base has the _Revelio Totalus_ and _Novida Singulum_ placed upon it," said Wilcox.

"Powerful and extremely difficult spells," noted Harry. "Which might explain why they targeted so many Ministry workers to kidnap and control with MM—some of the best spell-casters out there."

"_Revelio Totalus,_" said Wilcox, "is a spell designed to reveal any magical presence. Derivatives of this spell are found everywhere. The Loch Stock Liner uses similar means to navigate… Dumbledore's Hocus-Focusers build off of this spell… the boat in Voldemort's sea cave would only carry one magical entity. In this case, the spell sets off an alarm when any magical presence comes within its protective range, unless the witch or wizard to whom the magical presence belongs is accepted by the caster at the time of entry; that's how the wizard puppets get in. And _Novida Singulum_ is a spell that creates a disturbance when anyone enters who has not already visited the area in question. In short, the Sandbloods think they have all their bases covered. They think that these two spells will prevent anyone from entering."

Albus had to agree with the Sandbloods on this one.

"But they made Voldemort's same mistake," said Harry, grinning. "Witches and wizards under the age of seventeen are not noticed by the _Revelio Totalum_ spell—not in this form. So underage witches and wizards could break the defenses—if and only if they've already been to the Sandblood headquarters."

"Which you have," said Wilcox quietly.

Albus stared blankly, hearing but not quite comprehending.

"This is a huge request from you, if you're up to it, but it would be more than worth it for families like ours who might suffer in the future at the hands of the Sandbloods," said Harry.

"We've explored many options," said Wilcox, "and this seemed to be the best. "We'll be sure to secure your safety."

"How would you like to be the Auror Office's youngest ever spy?" asked Harry, dropping a file folder down on Albus's lap.

The folder had a most familiar title across the top.

_O11501_

_Operation Albus Severus Potter_

* * *

**_You'll find out exactly what Albus is going to be doing... and why they're asking a thirteen-year-old to do it (and not James)... on Saturday! For now, questions:_**

_**anothersignalman: **__**Thought: if 'magic' were a recessive gene, then could it be argued that all muggles come from squibs initially? **__**And a completely random thought - are you planning to incorporate the Dursleys in this anywhere? Answer: I don't think magic is recessive... If it were, then half-bloods would be Squibs, a lot. I don't think it fits into genealogy anywhere, it's too weird! And I can't tell you whether I'm planning on including the Dursleys, though I do like to draw on that sort of previous-series stuff at random times regardless of whether they're important... like Ludo Bagman's cameo in Chapter 2.**_

_**restautas25: A quick question: Since a person can only have one transfection, If someone like Lucas is an animagus, would he turn into a werewolf when bitten? Answer: Yes, they would lose their Animagus abilities and become a werewolf instead. I'm not sure if being an animal would protect them from the infection, but a werewolf wouldn't attack animals anyway; it goes after humans.**_

_**Hairy Potter: ****Is Gerald Stent going to be important? Answer: Yep, he's Head Auror now. He'll definitely be around.**_

_**Taralani2362: how long will this book be :o? How many chapters? And will we find out what the groaning sound is in this book or will we have to wait until future ones? Answer: There's a chapter list in the first chapter, it's 18 chapters. Book 1 was 17, Book 2 was 15, Book 3 is 18, Book 4 will be 27, Book 5 will be 26, Book 6 will be 24, Book 7 will be somewhere around 30 but Andy and I are going through that now to see if the chapters should be kept as is or if they should be combined. (We'll make whatever will be the best decision in that regard.) They'll all increase in length; the chapters will likely be longer as the books go on, too, so the chapter count may be deceiving. As for the groaning sound... I can't tell you that! :)**_

_**Hpfan182: D****id albus tell harry about wilcox's boggart? Answer: Not yet. Difficult to phrase something like that, I'd imagine. But the boggart incident will be explained even more thoroughly next chapter!**_

_**PotterfanDJM: What and who is a botanimagi? Do you just turn into a plant? Could you just live off of photosynthesis if you stayed a plant for whatever reason? What type of identifying marks would have to be registered in the ministry? Famous botanimagi that are taken from canon? How big of a role d they play? (I assume a bit, for Dismiusa) PS. When I googled botanimagi, chapters for your story came up, which is pretty cool in my opinion. Answer: Botanimagi are my creation, so I'm not surprised my story turned up when you google them! I liked the idea, though... it made sense, and I wanted another "Transfection" (also a term of my creation). I don't think many people would want to become a plant, but it's easier and probably pretty useful for eavesdropping, if you kept your mind. They probably won't play that big of a role; honestly, they're kind of useless for nonacademic purposes! Identifying marks... I doubt the Ministry cares too much... even if a criminal could hide as a plant, it's not like they would ever find him or her, even with knowledge of identifying marks. And yes, you could probably just live off of photosynthesis. I love thinking about these little things! It's what gives a story so much depth.**_

_**Monkeywoman14: Will Lily also be a big part in any of the books? Answer: Yes. Not nearly as much as the current main characters, though. Her biggest part is in the fifth.**_

_**Wolfkouji: How the muggles find the Sandblood base really reminds me of Jack Hodgins in Bones. Is that where you got the idea? Answer: Yes, to an extent! I've seen some forensics stuff in TV shows and I try to mimic it, since that's all I know. I have watched a fair few episodes of Bones; there are other shows I watch, too. But I'll try to stay on track, on my stories, for these Q&A's, so I won't delve into my extensive TV experience.**_


	16. The Spy

_**Sorry about the delay again. I went home for the weekend expecting that I'd have internet, but my family was having problems with our connection. I assumed it wouldn't be that much of an issue-I'd just upload today, no big deal-but apparently some anonymous reviewers got nasty at me when I was out. To those people: please, if you really have nothing better to do on a Saturday than verbally abuse me when the situation requires me to upload a day late, then please stay away from the review box entirely. I have deleted those reviews. Harrassing me when I'm late does nothing towards helping me upload faster. It just makes me upset to remember that some people are pathetic dicks. To anyone who posted those reviews: just stop. It is pointless and highly irritating. It's not like you'll never get to read the chapter, if it accidentally doesn't get uploaded the day I said it would. Honestly.**_

_**Sorry about the rant, anyone to whom that was not directed. Anyway, e**__**njoy the chapter.**_

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE SPY

O

"A… a spy?"

"We've been considering this since right after the kidnapping happened," said Harry. "We made a guess that _Revelio Totalum_ and _Novida Singulum_ were active, so we started making plans, and as it turned out, we were right. And those are the only protective measures taken on the area as a whole. So you could get in, unnoticed, place a tracking device in the headquarters, and get out, still unnoticed."

"That's all we're asking you to do," said Wilcox, "but I know it's still a lot. It's okay if you don't want to do this for us."

"What exactly do you want me to do?" asked Albus, his heart picking up speed exponentially as he listened.

"Get into the Sandblood base in Tunisia," said Wilcox. "We'll get you there. You just have to put on the Invisibility Cloak, take a few precautionary spells along, get Connected to me or your father—sorry, Auror terminology. We would use the Connectivity Charm on you, so that you can hear us giving you directions and we can hear your thoughts back to us. Nonverbal communication. Anyway, the point is this: You would take with you a tracking device. You would place it in the room of the Sandblood's head of operations, Maskorn Malseth, so that we can hear his plans before we fall victim to them. You would then leave. All of that is swift and silent, and presents no danger to you. If at any point you feel uncomfortable and presume the slightest hint of danger, and do not want to try to escape, tell us, and a hundred Aurors will storm the headquarters."

"Storming the headquarters was what we would normally do in the first place," said Harry. "But this isn't a normal situation. We think we can save more people if we simply wait and gather intelligence while staying one step ahead of their plans. And if we stormed their headquarters, they'd probably all commit suicide and we wouldn't get anything out of them. So we want to do this approach, but the only one we can count on to do it is you."

"Why not… James?" asked Albus cautiously.

"James is… a bit reckless," said Harry, scratching his sideburns. "We also had an Operation James Sirius Potter and we were debating between the two, but once you got your magic back and performed a _Shatterbolt and a Frostflame,_ and once we thought back to the wandless magic you did under stress last time… we decided you would be better suited to the job. Better suited not just because of your talent—James is two years ahead of you anyway, so that would put him higher—but because of your experience. Your life has been in grave danger so many times already and you've fought yourself out of it."

"Like father like son," said Wilcox, shrugging.

Harry laughed. "I suppose so. Not to mention, Al, that you're still riding on a bit of a high from all that magic that was plugged up inside you for so long, combined with the fact that you're one of the most talented kids I've ever seen. And I'm not just saying that because I'm your father. You made history with that Shatterbolt and Frostflame, kid."

Albus grinned sheepishly, feeling almost as though he had cheated because of the way his magic had been building up for months. But then again, maybe he deserved to get into the history books for putting up with the blockage for so long.

"I want to stress to you that we will never let you be in any danger," said Wilcox. "Anything happens and you will be rescued immediately. Within ten seconds of your call for help, there will be people at your side. Understood?"

"I understand."

"I never, ever want to put my family in danger," said Harry, kneeling down next to Albus's chair and looking him directly in the eyes. "And you know that. But I also don't want to let any more innocent people be harmed if we can avoid it. You can help us avoid it. You can help us protect other families like Alec's and Aidan's from the wrath of the Sandbloods. If you don't want to do this, we can ask James and we'll never tell anyone that you declined. It's your choice. So what's your choice?"

Albus took a deep breath as he thought.

What was the point of being in the history books as the youngest person to do something? Inevitably, he would be surpassed in that regard. But if he helped defeat the menace of the Sandbloods? Now _that_ would go down in history. That would never die.

It was a very Slytherin-like bit of reasoning, but Albus accepted this. After all, it was impossible for anyone (except maybe the Founders) to be _all_ Gryffindor, or _all_ Slytherin, or _all_ Ravenclaw, or _all_ Hufflepuff. In fact, if the Sorting Hat's songs over the years had taught him anything, it was healthiest to have a combination of all of them inside of him. For example, the prospect ahead of him was daunting, but if at stake were the lives of other families like his, his Gryffindor altruism roared up inside him like the emblematic lion, and he made his decision.

"I want to do this," he said confidently.

Harry looked absolutely overcome with pride.

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"I have to get back to the Auror Office to tell them," said Harry. "Are you sure you don't need time to consider it more? Is this your answer?"

"It is," said Albus, grinning.

"Thank you, Al," said his father, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. "I'm going to run back so that we have the most possible time to prepare. Al, you can cancel this at any time, keep in mind. I'm not going to make you go through with this if you don't want to. So give it more thought than you've ever given anything in your life."

"I'll debrief you quickly on the nature of the mission," said Wilcox as Harry kissed Albus on the top of the head and departed.

"Okay."

"We've used some complicated magic and scientific Muggle technology to map out the inside of the Sandblood base," said Wilcox. "We know what it looks like and we can navigate you to Malseth's office. You would enter his office, place the device inside, and then leave immediately, all while receiving instructions that only you can hear, through the Connectivity Charm. You will be patient and you might have to wait for long periods of time until you can be sure that your motions will not attract attention. You will be given tonic for the nerves; just a little so that you're not too jumpy, but not enough to make you reckless and taking risks. You will, as I state again, have an enormous company ready to cause a distraction or employ a quick rescue mission should the need arise or should you even feel the slightest discomfort. We'll have more details closer to the date, which should at this point be directly before exams—you'll have to miss those, of course, and I'm sure you're very broken up about that, but I think this is far harder, a far better measure of ability, and far more rewarding than exams, so we won't make you take those regardless of the date of the event. And now that you don't have to study, you can use the free time to practice handy spells that you might need to use inside the base. I will assist you with those if need be. And last, and the exact opposite of least… you are to tell _absolutely no one_ about this mission, before or after. Not your friends, not your cousins, not, say… any pen pals from certain French schools."

Albus smirked and nodded in understanding.

"All right. Any questions?"

_Just one,_ thought Albus, something suddenly clicking into place.

"When did you think of this idea?"

"Shortly after the conclusion of the situation over the Christmas holidays," said Wilcox. "We guessed which protective enchantments were over the headquarters, and I suggested that James may be able to return unnoticed… or, if you ever got your magic back, you might be able to do it."

"Is that why my dad's anger was your boggart?"

Wilcox seemed taken aback by this observation. He stared Albus down, and then his lips twisted up into a smile.

"Because you were afraid that this suggestion might cause something to happen to me or my brother, and it would be… your fault?" continued Albus.

Wilcox laughed softly. "Albus… I'm _extremely_ impressed with the maturity of your perception there. You're highly intelligent in more than just your scholarly activities, you know." He stood and brought Albus to the door. "And… you're exactly right."

Albus relaxed, glad that Wilcox hadn't been offended by the forwardness of his inquiry.

"But don't let that make you think that something _will_ happen," added Wilcox quickly. "Nothing will happen. We've taken more than enough precautions to ensure that our fears don't become reality. I guarantee it."

"We'll be contacting you soon about more details," said Wilcox. "For now, just tell everyone that you're missing all of your exams because we've decided that your performance on the Shatterbolt was enough to omit you from _all_ exams, not just that portion of your A.R.M. exam… and because your magical block for most of the year would have made it extremely hard to take exams. And if anybody asks why I called you up here, tell them it was because I wanted to congratulate you on your Shatterbolt and Frostflame. Of course, that won't be a lie, because I still want to do that… Congratulations, Albus, on a remarkable achievement!"

"Thank you, Professor," said Albus, glowing.

"Off you go. And thank _you_ for helping us out."

"You're welcome, sir."

Albus trotted down from the headmaster's office, a new skip in his step. He hadn't been this happy since the last time he was able to use magic…

Albus smacked a hand against his forehead. How could he have possibly forgotten? He needed to try his Patronus! If he could do a Shatterbolt and Frostflame… though he wasn't on the top of that high rush of energy anymore…

Someone stepped on the back of Albus's shoes. He whirled around, extremely surprised to notice that someone was walking right behind him—

There was no one there.

Albus frowned and turned back to keep walking. The second he took another step, someone stepped on the back of his other shoe.

Albus whipped around and threw his hand out behind him; it struck only air. He could hear giggling somewhere behind him.

"All right, James, take the Cloak off," muttered Albus.

"'S not James," laughed a voice.

Albus furrowed his brow. "Peeves?"

"Nope!"

Alec stepped out from behind a tapestry, laughing his head off.

"What were you doing?" asked Albus, confused.

"I invented a spell," said Alec, twitching his wand gleefully.

Albus stared down his Ravenclaw friend, trying to determine whether or not Alec was lying to him. _Invented_ a spell?

"It was sort of an accident," said Alec. "I was playing around with some spells and I sort of accidentally combined two little jinxes… and I made this incredibly annoying jinx that makes it feel like someone is constantly stepping on the back of your shoes. Isn't that one of the most annoying feelings ever?"

"You _invented_ a spell?!"

"Accidentally, yes," said Alec. "Why?"

"Because that's incredible!" raved Albus. "Inventing a spell is a huge deal, even if it was an accident! Holy Merlin, Alec, that's… that's crazy!"

Alec seemed very flattered by this response.

"Well… thank you," he said. "I wanted to show you, so I ran up here before class… dinner is over, we should be in Alternative Artifact Magic right now… What did Wilcox want you for?"

"Congratulating me on my Shatterbolt and Frostflame," said Albus, surprising himself at how easily the lie fell from his lips. "And to tell me that I don't have to take exams this semester."

Alec's mouth went through a series of indignant contortions.

"_What—_You lucky bastard! Why do you get exempt—the Diwand spells thing was only supposed to exempt you from that part of the A.R.M. exam!"

"I've been out of commission for too long, and Wilcox thought it was going to be too much to ask me to catch up before the exam."

"But you _have_ already caught up."

Albus grinned guiltily. He had been practicing hard ever since he was cured, and he was already back at the level of most of his classmates, even though they had almost two terms more than him to practice.

"But I'm still riding on the high energy boost and I don't know when that will go back to normal."

"And you don't want to take exams," teased Alec. "Don't worry, I get it. You're definitely going to be the most relaxed person in Hogwarts for the next couple of weeks."

O

Alec's prediction couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Albus was biting his nails, clawing at his hair, tapping his feet, twiddling his fingers, and unable to sleep soundly. He kept imagining all the things that could go wrong. The only thing that was keeping him calm was imagining all the things that could go right. He would be a hero.

On the Saturday before exams started, Albus told his friends that he was headed home until the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, as there was no reason for him to stay so long without doing anything. He had to give a reason for his absence, anyway. He joined his father at the Black Lake to call the Loch Stock Liner.

Milo apparently knew what was going on; he gave Albus a warm smile and a comforting reassurance that he would do great. His father gave him the final rundown en route—an extremely short trip; this had apparently been moved to the highest priority of the LSL, and the next stop was theirs.

Albus took the Invisibility Cloak from his bag when they stepped off of the LSL; he and his father crossed a small bit of desert on foot until they reached a small encampment. Most of the Aurors were already there. The camp was very near the Sandblood headquarters; Albus could now see the small portion of building sticking out of the sand dune. He shivered at the memory of what had almost happened here.

"We've cast a multitude of defensive spells over this area," explained one of the Aurors whom Albus had not yet met, as he cast spells around Albus's shoes so that sand would not stick and they wouldn't make sounds. "Just in case they have Chimaeras."

"Cameras," corrected Wilcox, who was also present. "We thought they might have cameras, not Chimaeras. Hello, Albus."

"Hi," said Albus, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Are you ready?" asked Wilcox. "Here's the plan."

Wilcox explained in detail the route that led to the office of the Sandblood's first-in-command, Malseth. Albus tried to pay attention, but he couldn't remember all the different turns he was supposed to take; the Sandbloods had built their headquarters like a labyrinth. However, Wilcox said he wouldn't need to remember the route. The route would be described to him through the Connectivity Charm.

Wilcox extracted his wand when he'd finished explaining. "I'm going to place the Connectivity Charm on you now," he said. "We'll be able to talk to each other through our minds. Don't worry, I won't see everything that's going on in your head; I'll only hear what you want to let me know. We're also going to give you a tonic for the nerves, and then Geri Stenet over here is going to perform his little specialty, a spell which slightly befuddles the senses of anyone who might start to become aware of your presence if they're not already aware of it. This won't cause enough of a confusion that they will know something is wrong—rather, this spell will simply make them jump to the wrong conclusions about what might have caused certain sounds, if there's ever a tiny slip-up. But we can't give you too many protective spells or potions—the Invisibility Cloak is essential to this plan. If we were to cast too much magic on your body, your body would be sensed by the detection enchantments. So those are the only ones we can cast on you. But they will undoubtedly be enough, if you are extremely cautious and if you do not deviate from the plan. Got it?"

"Got it," said Albus, taking a small vial of potion that his father handed him. He downed it in a single gulp and instantly felt his muscles loosen and relax—but he felt more agile for it.

"Okay," said Wilcox, aiming his wand directly between Albus's eyes. "_Tranousodia!_"

Albus closed his eyes to brace for some sort of impact, but nothing came.

_Did it work?_

Wilcox's voice came not from Albus's ears, but from Albus's own head. Albus opened his eyes and tried to think back.

_I'm pretty sure it worked!_

_Good,_ came Wilcox's reply, though his mouth was not moving. _Out loud, I'd like you to say, "Three."_

"How many fingers am I holding up behind my back?" asked Wilcox out loud.

"Three," said Albus.

Harry leaned behind Wilcox to see and then gave a thumbs-up. "Geri, you're next."

Geri Stenet, the new Head of the Auror Office whom Albus greatly admired, extracted his wand next. "Ready? One, two… _Agnosticors!_"

Albus also felt no different directly after this spell. However, when more Aurors came out to greet him, he felt a strange coldness radiating from his body, and everyone who hadn't already been introduced to Albus was squinting and looking slightly bewildered at his presence there.

"Time to put the plan into action, I think," said Wilcox. "According to our sources, who have been observing the Sandbloods for some time… in exactly thirty minutes, a group of Sandbloods will return to the base and they will take the main door. I will tell you what to do so as to enter unnoticed. Be cautious. Stick to the plan. And nothing can happen. Understood?"

"Tacit," said Albus, using Auror terminology, and several of the Aurors chuckled.

"Good. Put on the Cloak and head out. We'll give you instructions from here. If any small deviation occurs from what I'm telling you and what you're seeing, let me know immediately. It's time."

Albus put the Invisibility Cloak over himself and, barely breathing, he started the walk towards the entrance to the Sandblood headquarters.

_Remember,_ came Wilcox's reassurance. _Let us know the instant you feel uncomfortable proceeding, and we will storm the base. There are one hundred of us—just tell us where you are, if anything happens, and someone will come to your location within ten seconds to rescue you._

_Tacit,_ replied Albus internally.

_I know we can count on you to do this for us. We'll see you soon. Approach the path that the Sandbloods use, so that no one will see your footsteps._

Albus stepped into a path in the sand. It was a narrow road of sandstone covered in sand, so it was almost invisible; however, his footsteps were no longer leaving marks, and when he looked back, he saw an Auror wiping his footprints away before rushing back to the camp.

_Stand approximately one foot to the left of the door and one foot away from it._

Albus did as he was told.

He waited about half an hour before anything else happened; the suspense was unbearable. Wilcox soothed him through encouraging speeches, but nothing could calm his racing heart, especially when he finally saw the approaching figures of the Sandbloods in the distance.

_Continue to wait. They carry devices which send a signal to open the door when they are within fifty feet. That means you will have plenty of time to step through the door before they arrive. When the door opens, you will step inside and then back up against a wall. You will wait against the wall until there is no one else in sight. Tell me when that happens and I'll let you know what to do next._

The door opened at about the time Wilcox's instructions tailed off. Albus slipped through the door as quietly as possible and backed up against the wall. He watched as the Sandbloods, two men and two women who looked older than combat age, walked down the hall and disappeared around a bend.

_Okay,_ thought Albus. _They're gone. No one else in sight._

_Good. Walk down the hall and keep track of how many doors you pass on your LEFT side, and your left side only. Go through the ninth. So, you will pass eight doors on your left, and then the ninth is the one you should enter. It will already be open._

Albus set off silently down the hall, and opened his mouth wide to reduce the sound of his breathing and twitched as his tongue made a tiny sound. He knew this would not be noticed, but thinking about what would happen if he _was_ noticed was not fun.

He counted doors inside his head for Wilcox to hear.

_Seven. Eight. Nine._

_The ninth door should have two green lights above its entrance._

_It does._

_Excellent. Go through that door—but only after you've made sure no one is headed for that door from either direction._

Albus peered through the door. No one was approaching.

_Nope. No one. I'm going through._

He stepped through the door.

Wilcox directed him down at least a dozen more hallways after that one.

_It really takes this long for the Sandbloods to get to their leader?_

_Slow down—you don't want to exhaust yourself or start breathing too heavily out of fatigue. And no, it doesn't. There are quicker ways to arrive there, but those routes involve opening doors, and we don't think the security cameras would take kindly to the notion that doors are apparently opening by themselves._

Albus finally reached the door that Wilcox had described. It was a larger steel door, with heavy iron bars. It appeared to open only electronically.

_Stand by this door for ten minutes. Two other commanders enter this room every day at this time to give Malseth an update on the state of affairs. They will leave the room after she has explained everything. That will be your chance to plant the listening device in his room. The listening device is cloaked; it will remain undetected even after you place it. They will have no way of knowing it is there, and we will be able to hear everything Malseth hears when they give him updates on the state of affairs._

_And then I'll be getting out of here?_

_Immediately after. Yes._

Albus sighed in relief and waited tensely by the door to Malseth's office.

_If nothing happens within ten minutes—if for some reason the other commanders do not show up today—we will get you out and try again tomorrow. But it should happen. They haven't missed a day yet._

Sure enough, a little more than five minutes later, two people walked up to the door—and Albus recognized them. It was Viller and Scadjair.

_They're here. They have to be the two commanders. I recognize them._

_Okay, good. Wait for them to open the door and then get in unnoticed. You have a good amount of time. The door automatically stays open for ten seconds._

They walked up to the door and Viller flashed some sort of card in front of a scanner. There was a small beep, and then the door parted in two, sliding open to either side.

Albus stepped in after the two commanders, and his blood turned to ice at the notice of Malseth inside.

Malseth's face, Albus was pleased to notice, was still scarred and burned from the last encounter he'd had with Albus Severus Potter. However, this made him look even more dangerous than before. He flexed his muscles and cracked his knuckles and tilted his head to one side.

"Any news for today?"

_Are you inside?_

_Oh! Yes, I'm in._

"Our prisoner still is not yielding to torture," said Scadjair.

_Place the device down in the back left corner. Shield it with the Cloak for five seconds and our device will take care of the rest._

Albus walked over carefully to the corner of the room.

"How many fingernails does he have left?"

"Just two."

"Go at him again. Make him choose which eye he'd like us to puncture."

"We've already tried that, sir. He calmly stated that he'd like us to take out his left eye, so we took out his right."

Albus tried not to throw up at the conversation that was taking place, but the urge was almost overwhelming. But he was able to suppress it, aware of the fact that the Sandbloods would probably notice if vomit appeared out of nowhere. He placed the device in the corner of the room specified by Wilcox, and made sure it was covered.

"He's earned a castration, then."

"Also already done," sighed Viller.

"Repair it magically and do it again."

"Yes, sir."

The device silently molded itself magically into the wall until nothing was showing.

_The device is in,_ thought Albus excitedly to Wilcox.

_Good. Wait until they open the door again, and then follow them out. We'll give you directions from there. Excellent job, Albus!_

"Any other news?" pressed Malseth.

"No. Quiet day today."

"Then head out and do whatever you can to extract information from our prick-less prisoner."

"Yes, sir."

Albus waited patiently near the door until Viller flashed the card again. The door slid open again, and Albus waited for Viller and Scadjair to leave before following.

"Wait."

Malseth stood and walked around his desk.

"I'll take care of the prisoner myself. If you want something done right, do it yourself. If you can't do it, I will. I don't care how long it takes me; I'm going to get Vivekkamal to tell us what happened with Albus Potter."

Albus's limbs seized up upon hearing this, and in his panic he froze for a moment—but a moment too long.

Malseth stepped through the door and his arm bumped into Albus's back.

Malseth froze and looked down; his eyes bulged.

_Are you outside the room?_ asked Wilcox.

_Professor, get me out of here, now,_ pleaded Albus.

Malseth was staring into the exact spot he was standing.

* * *

_**Q&A**_

_**Abby's Girl: You might have mentioned it before but the two spells that Albus performed why are they so difficult to do? A: They require a lot of energy to perform. As a witch or wizard matures, she or he builds up more magical strength. A first-year trying advanced spells is like a three-year-old trying to lift fifty-pound weights. Or so I imagine for this world's canon. It's not a perfect analogy, but I hope you get what I mean.**_

_**anothersignalman: Is someone intercepting mail between Harry & Albus? Is the age of adulthood in the Wizarding world 17 because of how these spells work (and if so, why do they naturally work at 17?), or were the spells programmed to match this decision? A: First, no, no one's intercepting the Potters' mail. I see where the confusion might have been-Albus says "I got my magic back!" and Harry replies "I know, you wrote me and I wrote you back." I just meant that Albus was excited to tell his father in person, even though he'd already told his father over owl. Second, I imagine that coming of age in the Wizarding World was based off of the way certain spells work, such as the Trace. That's an interesting question, though, and I'd like to hear JK's response to that. Your question was more detailed in the actual review but I'm not sure what the answer to those other questions might be. My general answer is that I don't think you can change the age of adulthood, or the way spells like the Trace work based on age.**_

_**Lara1221: 1) I was wondering why you chose "mastermind" as the marionettes medicine control, when in "puppet jargon" the guy controlling the strings is called the "manipulator" 2) also, idk this just popped into my head, what is it Ron does in your story again? Answer: 1) The Marionette's Medicine isn't EXACTLY like a puppeteer with a puppet... Andy and I actually considered "manipulator," but "mastermind" sounded more like what we were looking for: They control the mind; they are the mind's master, and often, they are the mastermind behind whatever great plan is occurring. 2) Ron is an Auror in this story, too.**_

_**Other things, if I haven't answered your question, are likely things that you'll read about soon. Also, no one's asked this question, but I realized I did something silly. I completely forgot to include Quidditch at all in this book. I meant to include it-the Triwizard Tournament being at Beauxbatons wouldn't stop Quidditch at Hogwarts, I'd imagine, just that the Hogwarts Champion couldn't be on the team. But I forgot to put it in. Anyway, James won all three Quidditch matches for Hogwarts, and Gryffindor took the Quidditch cup this year. Sorry for forgetting-there's just so much little stuff to put in all the chapters that sometimes I forget the more obvious things!**_

_**See you on Wednesday! (I will try very hard to make my deadline, but to whoever was doing what I mentioned in the author's note at the beginning, don't be assholes if something happens.)**_


	17. The Marionette's Medicine

_**Second to last chapter, here we go! The journey of Book 3 concludes this Saturday!**_

* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE MARIONETTE'S MEDICINE

O

_Calm down, Albus. Step back quietly; he won't hear you. Position yourself as far away from Malseth as possible and keep him at a distance. There's no way he can find you and we are coming in now. Stay calm. Do not panic._

"What's wrong?" asked Viller, looking back.

"Er. Nothing," said Malseth, rubbing his arm. "I must have… hit my arm on the way out. I didn't feel it until now. That's strange."

_Wait,_ Albus shouted in his head to Wilcox.

"Bleeding?"

"No, just hit something. Never mind it."

_Albus, what is it? We're coming in._

_No—Stop! Wait just a moment._

"I'll be with the prisoner. You two get Brune."

"Brune is busy right now, sir—"

"Tell him to put whatever he's doing on hold. We're going to need him. And… wait. Before I get down there, let me just check on the project."

"Which one?"

"The one of which we do not speak aloud. Not even in our own base. Don't worry about me. Just get Brune and bring him to my office before we restart the torture."

_Albus, we are five seconds from breaking in. Yes or no, right now._

_No,_ thought Albus, in great relief. _Geri's spell worked. Everything's okay. He didn't notice me._

_Oh, thank Merlin. Albus, you need to get out right now. We're still ready to rescue you if you need us._

_Wait. Malseth said something about a secret project._

_Albus, we'll find out about that through surveillance. You've done your job and you need to leave._

_No. You won't find out about this through surveillance. He said they won't ever talk about it out loud._

_Albus, your personal safety is at risk. We told you not to deviate from the plan—_

_There's no harm in this. They don't know I'm here and they won't find me. What if this is really important? This may be our only chance to find out what he's up to. If I can get any information from snooping right now, then it's my responsibility to find out, and I should. I could seriously be saving some lives here._

_No. I forbid you from reentering that room, Albus. This is an order—you have to leave now. Tell me when you're alone in the hall._

_I'm going in there._

_Albus, NO!_

Albus jumped through the door again as Malseth stepped through again.

Malseth walked around his desk and to the back of the room as the door slid shut again. Eager to see what the Sandblood head was hiding, Albus crept steadily towards the set of drawers that he was unlocking.

_This is far too risky—_

_I know what I'm doing,_ responded Albus. _I'll tell you if I need help._

Malseth sighed as he opened the drawer. Albus's breath hitched as he watched what happened; what this secret project was that Malseth was working on.

Malseth slipped out two sheets of flexible steel and hooked them onto the backs of his forearms. He took out a pair of mechanized-looking glasses, and slipped them over his head; next, he took out a small remote control, and then he turned and leaned his back against the wall, spinning a dial on the glasses.

He looked down directly at Albus.

With a click of the remote control, panels of metal flipped all over the room, even under the floor, and they started to glow with an electric blue light.

Malseth smirked. "Evening, Albus Potter. Thought that was you I bumped into."

_GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW,_ screamed Albus inside his head, his blood freezing over inside his veins, but there was no reply—instead, there was an echo, and he heard his own words reverberating in his head.

"Heat sensors," laughed Malseth, tapping the glasses. "Muggles are useful for some inventions. I can see you under the Cloak. No magic can do that, but then again, this isn't magic. And barriers on the walls that block magic, so you can't communicate with the outside—we spared no expense for my office. I knew I could lure you in here by dropping a false hint about some 'secret project.' You squirmed away from us once, but that's not happening again."

He took a step towards Albus.

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!_" shouted Albus, throwing his wand out from under the Cloak and aiming at Malseth's face.

Malseth threw an arm in front of his face; the spell hit the armor on the back of his arm, and the spell bounced off. Albus had to tumble to one side to avoid the jet.

"Idiot boy. I am trained to fight the highest caliber of duelists the Wizarding World has to offer! You had practically zero chance of beating me the first time—what makes you think you can do it again?"

Malseth lunged for Albus; with a quick Jumping Charm, Albus was on the other side of the room. "_Expelliarmus!_" cried Albus as Malseth extracted a gun.

The firearm flew from Malseth's hand, landed on the other side of the room, and discharged; the handle blew open on the drawers he'd opened, and several of its contents shattered on the ground.

"There is still nothing you can do," growled Malseth. "But there's so much that we can do. What should it be? Drain your magic with a mulunctapol and turn you into a Squib servant with the Marionette's Medicine? Hold you hostage so that your father will give himself up? Both? Or maybe we should just kill you now to save us the trouble."

He whipped out something else that wasn't a gun; he pulled a trigger and suddenly Albus was feeling incredible pain; his limbs were twitching and he couldn't move them on his own—_what was happening?_

"Taser," said Malseth. "More effective than a gun if you want to keep your prey alive. …For now."

The electricity stopped, and Malseth advanced on Albus once more.

But suddenly, Albus felt a surge of power from his wand into his arm, and he could move it once more.

"_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus—Expulterris!_" gasped Albus from the floor.

Ironically, the electricity meant to incapacitate him seemed fuel the lightning bolt that erupted from his wand as his next spell, and the Shatterbolt tore across the office, exploding along its path and destroying the paneling rather than ricocheting—the Shatterbolt was no normal spell; it obliterated the panels which were meant to reflect it.

Malseth shouted something in shock before he was blasted to one side and knocked against the wall; the rumbling stopped and the room was torn apart, a hole leading to the next room over appearing in the wall. There were two people in that room adjacent to theirs, and those people were now unconscious. The metal panels were stripped off of the walls and no longer glowing, and most of Malseth's shelves had been blasted open.

—_ALBUS! ANSWER ME—WE'RE COMING IN, WHERE ARE YOU?_

_I'm in Malseth's office—hurry, there's no way no one noticed that explosion!_

_What explosion? Albus, are you okay—_

There was banging on the door.

"Malseth! Sir, what happened?"

Albus scrambled to his feet—Malseth was rising up, he hadn't been knocked unconscious and Albus had to do something—

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" he said, pointing his wand directly into Malseth's face; the man had no time to put his arms up in defense, and he was struck instantly with the Full Body-Bind.

"Malseth—sir—we're being invaded! The Aurors! This is exactly what we wanted! Are you in there?"

Albus froze.

_Professor Wilcox—no, it's a trap—_

_ALBUS! GET OUT—PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE OKAY, THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN—THEY KNEW WE WERE—I'M SO SORRY—_

Wilcox was suddenly cut off, and Albus's heart pumped the icy blood inside him even faster; there was a surging sound inside his head and he could barely breathe. What was going on—they had expected an invasion? They couldn't have incapacitated all hundred of the Aurors—

There was one way he could find out what had happened, and escape from this place unharmed, all in one go.

He turned to Malseth's open drawers, and his eyes fell upon a set of small vials labeled _MM._

As he realized what he was going to have to do, his stomach felt like it had jumped up and constricted itself around his heart. Was he really going to have to… But oh, _shit,_ it was disgusting, but it was his only option…

He ran to the vials. What did he have to do again? Just drink it, and then throw it back up immediately? No, there was something else he had to do…

Each vial was attached to a small syringe. He took one of the vials. That was it—he had to extract some of his… "cerebrospinal fluid." But how was he going to do that without injuring himself? He didn't even know where that fluid was located.

He broke the syringe off of one of the vials, and it suddenly ripped itself from his grasp and flew around the back of his head. He felt the needle pierce his skin right under his hairline on the back of his head, and gasped as he felt something come out. Twitching as the process finished, he held out his hand when the syringe flew around front again, and it deposited itself in his hand. It now had a small amount of a clear fluid inside.

"Er… thanks, I guess," said Albus, turning the syringe around; it had one word on it: "Auto." An auto-extracting needle.

"Sir, we're coming in."

Albus gasped at the door; the Sandbloods were getting impatient with their nonresponsive leader. It was now or never.

He popped the cork out of the vial. He didn't know exactly how to do this, but he didn't really have anything to lose. He just had to use what he knew about Potions to try his best. He emptied the contents of the syringe into the vial, recapped it, and shook it up; the potion turned black, and then red, and then green… Most potions went through three color transformations at most… This had to be the finishing color…

He uncapped the vial again and chugged its contents. It tasted like seawater mixed with hints of mud, and he felt his lungs expand for some reason when he downed it. He then leaned over Malseth, quivering with fright and revulsion, and opened the man's mouth.

He stuck two fingers down his throat, trying to force himself into the act he knew was necessary as tears gushed down his face. He closed his eyes; he couldn't even bear to look at what he was doing; it was absolutely vile. He tried to cast his mind elsewhere—anywhere but in this room where _this_ was going on—and then he heard the door beep just as the deed was done, and some strange presence surged forth inside his brain.

Malseth suddenly stood up where he was standing. Without any warning, he grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over Albus's shaking body where he knelt, kicking the empty syringe and vial under his desk right as the door opened, and Viller and Scadjair rushed in with a seven-foot-tall giant of a man; this must be Brune.

"Malseth!" gasped Scadjair, looking around. "What in the hell happened?"

"He got away, you idiots!" rasped Malseth. He pointed at the hole in the wall which led to the opposite room. "He's got an Invisibility Cloak and security showed the main door opening without any provocation just seconds ago. He's in the desert, but he can't get far; he hasn't got anywhere to go now that we have the Aurors. Chase him down!"

"Yes, sir!" said Viller; he and Scadjair bolted from the room, and made the same announcement over loudspeakers positioned everywhere in the base.

Malseth gestured to Albus. "Get up."

Albus couldn't believe what he was seeing. Malseth wasn't just a puppet under his control—he was taking charge, enacting plans for Albus's benefit that Albus would never have thought to employ. This was the Marionette's Medicine? This was far more dangerous than he'd ever have expected… and right now, it could be the difference between the worst day of the twenty-first century for the Wizarding World and the best day.

"We have to save the Aurors," said Albus. "What happened to them?"

"They were lured into a trap," explained Malseth immediately. "We opened a ditch under them and they fell into a box lined with the same magic-resistant material as my office. We closed the top over them and they are trapped in that cage. They are now being transported by boat out of the country, to be held in Egypt."

"Transported by boat?" repeated Albus, his mind flying to a hundred different plans. "Why to Egypt?"

"Because that's where—"

Malseth stiffened as if he had been Petrified again, and then began convulsing.

"What—What's happening?" cried Albus.

"Poison pill," coughed Malseth. "It is kept inside our cheeks to be detached and swallowed in case of emergency—it was inadvertently dislodged and went down my throat when you forced me to swallow the potion—"

He crumpled to the ground in spasms, foaming at the mouth, and then he was still. The strange presence in Albus's mind faded when Malseth stopped twitching.

Albus threw a hand to his mouth—he was pretty sure he had no pity for the twisted and evil man, but whether or not he did, Malseth was his only hope for now. Unless, if he could get more MM and, revolting as the procedure was, try again with another Sandblood, he might be able to get the same results—

A large chunk of the ceiling cascaded down and smashed onto Malseth's desk. Albus looked up—the ceiling was caving in; the Shatterbolt had not been kind to the building's structure. He couldn't stay to collect any more MM—another three pieces fell down dangerously close to him even as he considered the thought. Another huge portion of the ceiling smashed onto Malseth's drawers, and now they were definitely inaccessible. Albus prepared to charge out of the room, still under the Cloak, but the door was locked. He leapt back to Malseth's corpse and ripped off the Sandblood's card; he held the card in front of the door's scanner. It beeped and opened again.

Albus scampered out quickly, but there was no one in the area nearby to see the door open. He tried to recall the path out of the building, but there were too many turns.

He didn't have much time to spare. He turned to the direction from which he'd arrived and started sprinting. Maybe he'd remember something—the look of the hallway, a mark on some door nearby—

He turned down a hallway he remembered, but skidded to a stop after that; he didn't know where to go. Should he turn right or left, and after how many doors were passed? And even if he got this turn correct, could he recall the path that came after that, or the one that came after _that?_

He tried to breathe normally, but trying to force himself to breathe normally was like trying to hold a rubber band in a stretched position. The stress of the situation was unbearable. And once he got out, what could he do? He had to find some transportation out of here—the Aurors were en route to Egypt by way of the sea—

The _Loch Stock Liner._ The Liner had sensors that could detect large amounts of concentrated magic—like maybe one hundred Aurors on a single boat.

He had to get out and find a body of water. And fast—he was running out of time, how long would it be before they made it to Egypt? He didn't know if their boat was a Muggle boat or if it was enchanted by the wizard puppets of the Sandbloods. He had to just keep running until he found some way to exit the building, he couldn't just stand around. Maybe he could find some Sandbloods who were headed out of the building, and tail them, or maybe he could find some exit signs or a map or directions of some sort…

As he passed, he glanced at the labels which were on all of the doors. _Training Room. Training Room. Electricity. Climate. Torture Chamber. Facilities. Sanitation._

He skidded to a stop. Torture Chamber? Maybe…

Sticking a hand outside of the Cloak, he slid Malseth's card through a small slot next to the door; nothing happened. He looked at the edge; there was a metal strip on one edge, maybe that was the edge that needed to be swiped… The door opened on his second try, and inside was the man who must have been over seven feet tall whom Albus had assumed was Brune, standing above Sahil Vivekkamal, who was attached to several machines of a most gruesome nature.

Brune looked puzzled at the open door, an expression which turned to horror as Albus's wand revealed itself and he was immediately struck with a Full Body-Bind. Albus ran to Vivekkamal's side and threw the Cloak off.

"Albus… Potter," croaked Vivekkamal. "Boy… you need to… get out. Now."

"Not without you, look what they're doing to you," breathed Albus.

"Don't worry… about me."

"If I can get you out quickly, they won't be able to get information from you," argued Albus. "How do I get you out?"

Vivekkamal sighed. The only sound in the room was a soft beeping coming from one of the machines which was apparently measuring Vivekkamal's heart rate.

Then he smiled.

"Okay," he said, pointing at one of the machines. "The large red dial. Turn it… all the way to the right. All the way, all at once, quickly, and don't stop for any reason."

Albus lunged for the dial and turned it all the way—instantly he knew something was wrong, and electricity pummeled Vivekkamal's body so violently there was no way he survived. The lights flickered, and one bulb burst, and then when the barrage ceased, the machine in the corner which apparently monitored Vivekkamal's heart was showing a straight line and had ceased its beeping.

A lump formed in Albus's throat—Vivekkamal had just made Albus put him out of his misery. At least he wouldn't suffer any more, and the information he possessed would never belong to the Sandbloods… Albus threw the Cloak back on and tore out of the room and down the hall, tears welling up again.

He realized after a moment that in his panic, he had started running the same way he'd come. He turned around again, and after he passed the torture chamber again, he passed the restroom…

He stopped. He didn't _need_ to get out. If he could just find enough water…

He burst into the lavatory and came across several sinks and several toilets inside a somewhat cramped room, but the ceiling was high enough and the room was small enough that it would fill up quickly.

"_Reducto!_" shouted Albus, pointing his wand at each sink in turn. "_Reducto! Reducto!_" He moved on to the toilets as the sinks shattered and water gushed out from the pipes. "_Reducto! Reducto!_" The toilets burst, and started flooding the area as well.

The door created a watertight seal, and the room started to slowly fill with water. Albus only needed a few inches depth, and then…

It only took a minute or so before the water was almost half a foot deep, and then Albus stooped down. Hoping, praying that this would work, he tapped his wand on the surface of the water three times.

Nothing happened. He tapped again. Still there was no boat appearing under the surface… but then again, they didn't always show up right away… Maybe if he did it again, they'd know it was urgent… He tapped three times again.

This time, the ground started to rumble, and the entire room shook violently; a dark shape appeared as the tiles on the restroom floor began to turn transparent, and then the Loch Stock Liner burst from the depths.

An ear-splitting alarm blared through the entire building at the entrance of the Loch Stock Liner—Albus had forgotten this would happen. He ignored the ladder that was thrown down, and instead used a Jumping Charm to propel himself right onto the deck, bunching up his Invisibility Cloak and running at the door to the cabins.

"Where the hell have you brought us, Albus Potter?" roared the captain; Albus didn't respond and burst through to the cabins.

He slammed the door to dim the screeching of the alarm, and grabbed Milo Melaenk's arm as the twiggy mustache was about to turn upwards in a friendly smile.

"Dad," he breathed. "In danger… Professor Wilcox… all the Aurors… kidnapped… On a boat to Egypt—we need to find them!"

"Calm," said Milo, nodding in comprehension. He snapped the straps of his suspenders against his chest and nodded. "We're on it. Can we track them? How many are there?"

"A hundred, I think," said Albus. "They're all in one cage."

The boat lurched without warning as the alarm's shriek intensified—someone must have opened the door and seen the boat. There were sounds of a brief duel, spells flying everywhere, some striking the boat, and then the Liner plunged back underwater and disappeared.

Albus rushed to imagine who they could find to help them fight the Sandbloods—Uncle Ron wasn't with them, he had gone on a different mission—Uncle Ron was an Auror, he could contact other Aurors—but he didn't know where Uncle Ron was—

"Can you find my Uncle Ron?" asked Albus frantically.

"I don't know where he is," said Milo. "And he's just one person. The Liner wouldn't be able to track him."

Albus scratched his head. What could he do? Aunt Hermione might know where he was… but they couldn't make too many detours…

He held his wand high. There was one way he knew to communicate across long distances—but could he even do it?

He breathed in deeply, and thought about his happiest memories.

He kissed Janelle, and he felt… fantastic.

He was sorted into Gryffindor.

He found out he had magic.

But the one thing that made him happiest—which he would lose if he couldn't do this—was his family, together and happy… knowing that they were all safe after the events at Christmas was the greatest gift he had ever received.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

His silver lime wand glowed, and out burst his Patronus: a sleek, silver shining coyote that looked over its shoulder and nodded.

There was a life in its eyes that Albus had never expected from the spell. It seemed to already know its mission—to rescue one of the people who had lent himself to Albus's happiest thought.

Albus pointed his wand upward—they were underwater—and held in his mind a clear picture of Aunt Hermione's house. He didn't know how to do this; he'd never asked his father how to make a Patronus go where he wanted it to go, or how to make it talk. But the Patronus was a guardian with a life of its own, and the coyote knew its task; it soared through the ceiling of the Loch Stock Liner and disappeared.

"Amazing," whispered Milo. "I can't even do that spell." He looked down at Albus. "Are you getting Ron?"

"I don't know where he is," said Albus. "But maybe it will find Aunt Hermione—if not, I'll send one to the Ministry of Magic if I can."

"Tell her to call the Loch Stock Liner."

The Liner suddenly surfaced, and the captain, Salvo Ihmleste, burst through the door looking furious.

"Where have we stopped?" asked Milo quickly.

"Middle of the ocean; I had to ask what's going on. We nearly lost several crew members back there—what the _bloody f—_"

Milo held up a hand.

"One hundred Aurors are in the hands of the enemy," he said. "We need to find them. We'll have to drop all of our passengers off at Ronald Weasleys' house, if we end up surfacing there, give them compensation and pick them up later; this is a national emergency."

Salvo glanced down at Albus.

"Please," said Albus. "My dad. Professor Wilcox. So many Aurors. You're the only way we could find them."

"Hold on there, laddie, I would never considering abandoning these people," said Salvo. "Of _course_ I'm going to help you—I'm looking to you for direction right now, explanation can come later."

Albus was flooded with gratitude and relief.

"They're going between Tunisia and Egypt by boat," said Albus. "I don't know where in Egypt they're going, but I thought this boat could find them—we can track large sources of magic, and there have to be a hundred Aurors on that boat—"

"Normally, finding a group of one hundred wizards would still be an impossible task for this boat," said Salvo, "but if they're indeed on the sea, with no other sources of magic around, then they should stick out like sore thumbs on our radar."

A terrible shriek pierced the walls of the cabin from the outside; Albus cringed, but Salvo tilted his head and listened; it must be Mermish.

"We're being hailed from Frost Pond," said Salvo.

"That's the pond by Aunt Hermione's house!" gasped Albus.

"How did she know to call us already?"

"I sent a Patronus."

Salvo looked briefly impressed, but then his face returned to its usual businesslike stature.

"Milo, explain the emergency to the passengers, and split up the last twenty-four hour's earnings between each of the passengers as an apology for the inconvenience," said Salvo. "I'll pay the crew out of my pocket today."

"You don't have to pay me, this job will be its own reward today," said Milo. "Get out there and take the wheel again."

Salvo flung the door open and then flung himself out; Milo closed the door and gestured to a handle for Albus to hold, then raced around and opened each door in turn to explain the situation to the passengers as the Liner dove under the waves once more.

Albus steadied himself on the handle for a while, but the Loch Stock Liner surged forward at a pace he couldn't remember having experienced before; apparently they could really speed up when they needed to.

The Liner slowed down quickly, and bewildered passengers poured from the cabins. Albus hid under his Cloak when the first door opened; he didn't want to be seen, as he wasn't supposed to let anyone know of his mission, and he didn't want to be asked questions about what was happening; that might slow everyone down.

Milo directed everyone out, and told them to stay in the Weasleys' house. In rushed Ginny, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Uncle George, Uncle Percy, Uncle Bill, and Aunt Fleur, along with about four dozen or so Ministry workers whom Albus didn't recognize.

Albus took off the Cloak and hugged his mother; she jumped a bit at his unexpected appearance, but then hugged him back and pulled him close.

"We're going to find your father," assured Ginny. "And we're going to find everyone else, too."

The Liner plunged back underwater the instant the cabin door was closed. Everyone stumbled around for a moment, but nobody entered a room to sit out the wait. The mood was too tense; everyone wanted to be the first one out on the deck to attack when the Liner surfaced.

"Albus, I couldn't believe what I was seeing when your Patronus sailed in and started shouting at me," said Aunt Hermione. "The words were a little garbled up, which can happen when you haven't practiced the method, but I gleaned what you were saying. I sent word to… well… everyone."

The Liner bucked for a moment, and then they felt the floor start to rise under their feet; they were surfacing.

"Get ready, everyone," said Uncle Ron, readying himself by the door.

They broke the surface of the water, but before anyone could exit, Milo held up his hand. "Hold on, there," he said. "Salvo would have stopped as soon as he spotted them, to come in here and tell us the plan. This stop probably means we know where they are, but we're not quite there yet."

A moment later, Salvo opened the door and nodded to Milo. "We've located them," he said. "We are going to come up under the ship, breaking it in half, and we're going to try to aim it so precisely that the cage containing our captured friends lands right on the ship's deck. We are going to need some people to stay on the deck while we race underwater so that they can attack as soon as we surface; anybody who can confidently perform an adequate Bubble-Head Charm should join us on deck before we go under again. Everyone else, stay in here and be ready to jump out onto the deck to try and release our caged friends the moment that the cage lands on deck."

"Tacit," said Ron.

Salvo exited to prepare to steer the ship again; several of the Ministry workers followed him, casting Bubble-Head Charms over themselves so they could breathe when the ship went underwater.

"Albus, get into one of the rooms," said Uncle Percy as the Liner began to submerge again. "Milo, would you watch over him?"

"What?" sputtered Albus. "No, I'm fighting!"

"You are _thirteen years old,_" said Uncle Percy. "There is no way you are entering combat. I have great doubts that all of the adults will make it through this alive."

"And that's _my fault!_" exploded Albus. "I shouldn't have followed Malseth into his office—he found me, and I told Professor Wilcox that I needed to be rescued, and that's why everyone rushed in. We could have done the whole thing unnoticed if it wasn't for me, and I'm the reason that a hundred Aurors are in that cage and so I have to help them get out—"

"You've done great, Albus," said Ginny; she and Aunt Hermione placed hands on his shoulders. "Stop while you're ahead. And alive."

"I'm fighting!"

"You fought, and you fought bravely and excellently," said Aunt Hermione. "But now we have to make sure you're safe."

"You don't understand—"

"I do understand," said Ginny, leaning down and staring into his eyes. "Believe me, I know what it's like to want to fight, and to be stopped because you're too young. Albus, you're destined to do great things, and we don't want your journey to end here. You'll be a great asset someday, but only if you live that long."

"Someone should take the Cloak," said Ron, taking it from Albus's grasp. "I'll wear it—I'll go for the cage. Al, do you know anything about what the cage looks like?"

"No," said Albus. "Malseth died before he could tell me about that part."

"Malseth's _dead?_" yelped Ron. "And you were getting him to _talk?_"

"It's a long story," said Albus, feeling queasy as he remembered.

"Come on, Albus," said Milo, putting a gentle hand on his back and guiding him towards the first room.

Albus reluctantly followed Milo into the room, and sat down, grabbing a handle. He held his knees close to his chest and rocked. How could he just sit around and not know what was going on, who had been killed, who was alive…

"They're the Ministry's best," said Milo, patting his head. "They'll take care of this. Everything will be fine, everyone will be fine."

The Liner started to rise again.

"We're coming up under them," whispered Milo.

Albus leaned towards the window, but Milo pulled him back.

"Best not to stay too close to the glass," he warned.

The Liner roared to the surface at a remarkable speed, and burst through—Albus gawked out the window as the Liner rocketed out of the water, a hundred feet in the air. Sandbloods and pieces of wood rained down around them as the Liner plummeted back to the sea, crashing into the waves with such force that Albus hit the ceiling and then painfully dropped to the floor like a stone.

"That was a bit rougher than I'd expected," said Milo, taking out his wand.

Albus took out his wands as well, and waited. He kept waiting… and kept waiting… There were gunshots overhead, and screams painted the silent ocean…

Albus leapt to the door of the room and opened it, and then sprinted for the door out of the cabins.

"Albus, _no!_" cried Milo, leaning out of the door and aiming his wand, but Albus Dissipated his Impediment Jinx and continued out to the open, where a battle was raging on the high seas.

About two dozen Sandbloods were all around, grasping onto small pieces of their former ship. The wizard puppets whom the Sandbloods had taken with them had already been Disarmed and were lying Stunned on the deck of the ship; they were friends of the Aurors on the Liner and nobody was about to let them drown. The Sandbloods were fighting with firearms; Albus Disarmed a few before he was noticed by his mother.

"Albus, _get into the cabin THIS INSTANT!_" she screamed, shooting a spell at a Sandblood who had just climbed over the side of the ship; he blasted in a spiral backwards through the air until he disappeared into the sea.

Albus turned around to see a gigantic metal box resting on the upper deck of the Liner—this had to be the "cage" to which Malseth had referred.

"It won't open with any spell!" shouted Ron.

Albus ran up. "Stand back!" he yelled.

The Aurors looked at each other and then retreated.

"_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus!_"

His wands only sparked and fizzled; he didn't have enough energy in him to produce the Shatterbolt.

"I'm a little low on energy, but a Shatterbolt should do the trick," said Albus. "It did before."

"Can anyone do a Shatterbolt?" yelled Uncle Ron.

Aunt Hermione jumped up from her defensive position and snatched up Uncle Ron's wand. "Keep away for a second! I'm going to have to aim this into the sky, otherwise it could tear up the Liner—_Cumaestis eculumos petomaximus—Expulterris!_"

There was the desired effect: so bright and explosive that everyone had to look away and shield their eyes. But when they looked back, there was a gaping hole in an upper corner of the metal cage, and Aurors were already jumping out in multitudes.

"That's everyone!" called Harry as he jumped free. "No one was in any separate containment—everyone's safe!"

"Get into the cabins!" roared Wilcox, looking like he had no blood left in his face. "Get the wizards under MM under the deck as well!"

"Submerge the Liner once everyone's below deck!" added Harry to Salvo; Salvo nodded and shrieked something up to the crow's nest in Mermish.

A Sandblood popped up from the side of the ship, his handgun aimed directly at the back of Wilcox's head.

"_Expelliarmus!_" shouted Albus, and the Sandblood's firearm and grip were both dislodged; he slipped away and plunked into the water below with a satisfying sound.

"When we go under," roared Salvo to the rest of the crew, "make sure we dive deep and long in case we've got anyone clinging to the sides of the ship; they won't survive if we head into Digher Straits!"

"Yes, captain!"

"Albus, below!" yelled Ginny.

Albus looked around one last time before a gunshot brought to his attention the fact that he was still out in the open. He descended below deck, into the waiting arms of his father, and the Loch Stock Liner buried itself beneath the waves once more.

* * *

_**Hey, look, I'm not torturing you with a cliffhanger! Next chapter wraps up the book, and at the end of that chapter I'll give details as to when you'll be seeing Book 4. Albus Potter and the Descent of Dismiusa will also have a lot more of the meaty stuff like classwork and interpersonal relationships that I didn't really have as much time to get into in this book. Character development, hooray!**_

_**Q&A time.**_

_**Avatar Rikki: How did you come up with the Auror terminology, like "tacit"? Are we going to hear more in this book, or in the other books? Answer: I was searching synonyms one time because I used the word "understood" too many times, and one of the results was "tacit." It's actually a word, and it describes something that's redundant or doesn't need to be said aloud. I thought it sounded like a code word, so I used it for Aurors to tell each other "You don't need to say it again, because that's understood." You might see more Auror code, because I plan on showing you a few more Auror missions in the future.**_

_**ARega1s: Why don't Al and James make a second copy of the Marauder's Map so they no longer have to trade or does it require more advanced magic than James knows? Answer: That map is seriously advanced magic-if it wasn't, everyone might have one, and that would be pretty invasive. It's already enough trouble when there's only one!**_

_**SK: For the spell that lets Albus communicate with Wilcox, who invented it and when? Also, was there a point to the story about domesticated phoenixes? Who's Rose's crush? Answer: I just imagined that the Connectivity Charm was a spell that was invented a while back and that it was present in JK's books but it just didn't get mentioned, like how the Trace didn't get mentioned until the last book. That's the only one I can answer without getting into the plot of later books. But I will tell you that we'll be revisiting Sparky, and Rose's love life, fairly soon :)**_


	18. A Taste of the Action

_**Edit: Apparently this chapter got deleted somehow. Someone brought that to my attention, so it's back and hopefully it'll stay this time. Sorry if you were inconvenienced, and sorry if you got an extra email!**_

* * *

_**Q&A: (if I don't answer your question then either it's addressed in the chapter or I can't tell you)**_

_**dude'd: Will the other hallows feature in your story at all? As you have already mentioned the elder wand, it probably should but what about the stone? Also does albus have a really dark side to him, one that could have made him slytherinesqe? And are we gonna see it? Answer: The Resurrection Stone was dropped in the Forbidden Forest and probably trampled down. I'll let you decide whether it's likely or unlikely to be found again. And I think most people have dark sides... Albus certainly has some Slytherin in him, and you're following his adventures for seven years so you're probably bound to see it at some point!**_

_**PercyPotter36: ****Is the rest of the series going to focus on Wizards vs. Sandbloods? Answer: There are other enemies to be uncovered, but the Sandbloods will be around.**_

_**hpfan182: Why did you choose a coyote specifically for Albus' patronus...any particular reasons? Answer: Andy and I both liked it for Albus's Patronus. There are some reasons which narrowed down our choices but I can't tell you those yet.**_

_**AthenaIsCool6: Why aren't Albus's parents angry over the whole reading Lucus's diary thing? Was this just a skipped scene? Another thought. Exo's second wand was ivy, right? You wrote in an earlier chapter that ivy was made to help people with handicaps, and Albus's loss of magic could be considered a handicap. So that could be why his wand worked better for Albus then his own wands! Answer: I didn't focus on the Potters' response to Albus's intrusion of Lucas's privacy because it didn't really seem as important as the rest of the material I was writing. Maybe I should have. As for your thought about the wands-you're exactly right! I was hoping someone would pick up on that!**_

_**Jerry Side: I was a bit confused as to how Hermione was able to perform a Shatterbolt. I thought it was a very difficult spell. I also wondered why she took Ron's wand (I think she did) to perform the spell. Answer: Hermione is an incredibly talented witch. She's studied a lot of different wandlore and can perform Diwand spells very well. She borrowed Ron's wand because she doesn't carry two around normally.**_

_**Nega Patronus: If your Patronus changes like Tonks did, will your animagi form change too? And are Botanimagi's Patronus' plants, or animals? Answer: I don't think your animagus form can change... and I don't think it can be a plant, although that would be hilarious. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" *tree appears***_

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A TASTE OF THE ACTION

O

"Wow, Albus," laughed Uncle Ron as the Liner emerged from Digher Straits on the route to his house. "You really got a taste of the action today, didn't you?"

"A bit more than I might have wanted," replied Albus.

"I can't believe you thought to use MM," whispered Harry. "Brilliant, but scary. What did it feel like? Having someone under your complete control?"

"It was like his brain followed my complete commands, even when I wasn't giving them," breathed Albus. "I felt a weird… tingling inside my brain. Like there was something else in there. But not like… not invasive. Just… there."

Wilcox nodded. "Interesting, to hear it described." He placed a hand on Albus's shoulder. "Thank you _so much_ for what you did for us today, Albus. The Auror Office is forever in your debt. So am I."

"It was my fault that everyone fell into the trap, though," said Albus. "How did they get all of you at once?"

"We were all charging towards the base, and then the ground opened up under us," said Harry. "You saw the cage. We all fell in and the top was quickly closed over us. They levitated the cage over to the nearest seaside. We thought there was no hope."

"And it's not your fault," said Uncle Ron. "Eventually we would have ended up storming that Sandblood base, when we thought we had enough information from them. So we would have fallen into the same trap, only later—and you wouldn't have been there to save our sorry arses."

Albus blushed.

"How did they know that was going to happen?" asked Ginny, looking worried. "The way you're describing it, they seemed to know exactly where you were coming from and where you were going. Are they spying on us, too?"

"I have no idea," said Uncle Ron. "It worries me. We'll have to sweep the Ministry and our homes, see if there's any hidden devices."

"And I'll have Hogwarts checked over, too," said Wilcox. "Not that Muggle technology would work in the school or the Ministry, but we apparently have underestimated our enemy a few too many times."

"Wait till I tell Caradoc Slade about this," laughed Uncle Percy. "He's been badgering me for details about the mission since we first approved it. I didn't tell him anything about the actual mission, of course—this was strictly for Auror ears—I just told him we'd be storming the base. I didn't think we actually would."

"So Malseth is dead," said Albus. "Does that mean the Sandbloods will… disband?"

"Almost certainly not," said Harry. "We've been analyzing their command structure. We always imagined that Palmer Viller will be taking over when we took out Malseth. He's our number one target now."

"The Sandblood regime has three main leaders," said Wilcox. "When one of them is taken down, someone from the next highest power level will take his or her place. For example, the three most important people for the Sandbloods were Maskorn Malseth, Palmer Viller, and Marsilia Scadjair, in that order. The next highest three are Mella Ligmia, Tawder Brune, and Coral Envix. Based on our understanding of their politics, the Big Three will probably now be composed of Viller, Scadjair, and Ligmia, followed by Brune, Envix, and one other—we'll be interested to see who that might be."

"Probably Garror Envix," said Uncle Ron. "We've heard his name enough, we know he's important. Coral's husband?"

"His proximity to Coral will probably get him the position, if nothing else," agreed Harry. "But we've got a lead on Coral, right? We should have her soon."

"My mission was for nothing," noted Albus, disappointed. "Malseth's office was where I put the device, and he's gone."

"Viller might move into his office, once it's repaired," said Harry. "But unfortunately, I do think they'll be deserting it, considering what happened there."

Albus sighed.

"Good work today, m'boy," said Wilcox. "You should go home and rest. We'll see you at the third task of the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry sighed.

"I can't believe what almost happened today," he said, shaking his head. "Imagine if we'd all been captured. We need to screw our heads on straight. Stop underestimating."

"I think," said Geri Stenet, who had been quietly listening to this point, "that from now on we need to start _overestimating_ our enemy."

"What do you mean?" asked Uncle Ron.

"I mean to say that our enemy is more powerful than we had ever considered," said Geri. "That is what led us into this trap. To avoid making any more idiotic mistakes, we must act as if the enemy is our equal in strength. If we are fighting an enemy who is more powerful than we are, then there is nothing we can do except fight our hardest and hope they make an error. If we are fighting an enemy who is our equal, we cannot win if we make any mistakes—only if _they_ have a misstep will we emerge victorious. And if we are fighting an enemy who is weaker, we will win by definition if we make no mistakes. In any of these three cases, our interests are best served by pretending as though one mistake will be our downfall—thus we must always treat the enemy as our equal."

"I can't tell you how happy I am that you replaced Auchland," said Aunt Hermione, cracking a smile.

"We also have another problem," said Geri. "I don't know if you've noticed, but none of the wizards who were under the influence of MM were freed, even though Albus has confirmed that Malseth is deceased. You know what that means."

"Someone else is the Mastermind," said Harry, nodding. "I know. Do we have any idea who that might be? And what do we tell the press—what do we tell the families of the Sandbloods' puppets?"

"We tell them the truth, of what we know," said Geri. "I'm not Auchland. I'm not going to twist the facts to make our situation seem to be anything other than what it is. This mission, however, was and still is of course entirely confidential in its nature. Everyone here knows this, correct?" He looked down at Albus.

"Albus, you know you still can't tell anyone about what happened, right?" said Harry seriously. "This would be a great tale to tell your friends, but it might compromise the security of the Wizarding community. No one will hear of this escapade. Okay?"

"Okay," said Albus.

"Here, let's get in a room," said Harry. "I think the Liner should make its first few stops at the home of anyone here who has a family to return to. So their families know they are safe. We'll get off last."

He brought Ginny, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione to one of the rooms in the Liner, and when he closed the door, he turned back to Albus with a sly smile.

"Tell your friends if you want," chuckled Harry. "I only said that in front of Geri so that I wouldn't get in trouble. I know I would have told my friends if this had happened to me when I was your age, so go ahead."

He winked at Ginny, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione.

"Just don't tell too many people, and make sure they know they can never tell another soul now that you've told them."

"I'll make sure," said Albus eagerly.

"So you can do a Patronus now?" asked Ginny, smiling.

Harry staggered for a moment. "_What?_"

"Not now," said Aunt Hermione, pushing Albus's wand down as he took it out excitedly. "You're exhausted. Try it again when you get home."

"What form did it take?" asked Harry eagerly.

"It looked like a wolf," said Albus. "But it was… smaller. With a bigger tail. And… thinner legs, I think."

"A coyote," guessed Aunt Hermione.

Harry grinned widely. "I'm so proud of you, Albus!"

"Thanks, Dad," said Albus, looking down at the floor. "You're not… mad at me for not following orders?"

"Your father knows quite a bit about not following orders," said Ginny. "I'm sure he understands. As I heard, your impulse was done to try and get more intelligence on the plans of the Sandbloods, which is perfectly reasonable. And you were under the Invisibility Cloak, so no one would have thought you'd be caught."

"How did he find you, anyway?" asked Uncle Ron. "That Cloak is supposed to completely hide the user."

"He said something about 'heat sensors' when he saw me," answered Albus. "He was wearing these weird Muggle glasses."

"He could see the heat given off by your body," said Aunt Hermione, nodding.

"But the Cloak is supposed to completely shield you from view, for any kind of view," said Uncle Ron.

"Well, the Cloak was created by a wizard," said Aunt Hermione. "It's foolproof, against _magic_. But we've seen wizards underestimate Muggle technology a little too much recently. I don't think it's so implausible to imagine that whoever created the Cloak never expected even the slightest possibility that _Muggles_ would be able to find him. The thought to guard against Muggles probably never crossed his mind at all."

"I guess we can't rely completely on the Cloak anymore," said Harry nervously.

"We don't have to," said Aunt Hermione. "We can employ Muggle methods, too. We can hack their machinery."

"Hack?" said Albus.

"It would be very difficult for me to explain how that works," said Aunt Hermione, shrugging. "I'll explain it to you after you've learned a bit more about electronics in Muggle Studies." She turned back to the other adults. "Have you guys heard about the Muggle group called Anonymous?"

"Of course," said Harry, smiling. "They're some of the Ministry's best friends right now; they swore they would take down the Sandbloods."

"We might want to get into contact with them, if we can," said Aunt Hermione. "I'm not sure exactly how we would do that, though. They're called Anonymous for a reason. But they might really be able to help us out. It's like fighting fire with fire—but fighting Muggle technology with Muggle technology."

"I agree, we should team up with Muggles whenever possible," said Uncle Ron. He snorted. "I mean, we don't seem to be doing so hot on our own right now."

"We'll do better," said Harry. "Things are getting better. And we may be able to find the Sandblood base sometime very soon."

"You said the Aurors were being transported to Egypt?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," said Albus.

"So that probably confirms what we always imagined," said Harry. "That wasn't their main base. We thought they would be in Egypt… I wonder if Helio was right."

"Right about what?" asked Ginny.

"You know Helio," said Harry. "Always thinking, and always thinking of the most far-fetched situations to try to explain what we don't know. I think he channels a bit of Xenophilius Lovegood sometimes. I would guess they were twin brothers separated at birth if the age gap wasn't so large."

"He was trying to point to Dismiusa to explain why the mulunctapoli might have been in the Forbidden Forest, wasn't he?" asked Aunt Hermione.

"Helio thought that the Sandbloods released the mulunctapoli into the forest to see if they might stumble across Dismiusa," confirmed Uncle Ron. "He thinks that the Sandbloods believe in Dismiusa, and that they hoped the mulunctapoli would lead them to her."

"Let's hope he's not right on that one," said Ginny. "But what is Helio saying now?"

"Helio loves his Wizarding mythology," said Harry. "He's looking into two different accounts of some rather fantastic lore. One is only in a few extremely obscure stories, but what those stories describe is a giant chamber buried in the Egyptian sands which houses a magical machine of enormous power called the Pandoran Catalyst. The other story is about a hidden city deep under the Egyptian desert called the Hourglass Empire, where refugees go when they have nowhere else to go."

"The Hourglass Empire is supposed to be a one-way trip," said Aunt Hermione, raising an eyebrow. "If the Sandblood base was there, anyone who went there would never come back, and we wouldn't be having this problem."

"Helio thinks otherwise in regards to the Hourglass Empire," said Harry. "He knows that it all seems far-fetched, but if it gives us a start, then it's worth mentioning. He thinks the Sandbloods may have set up camp in Egypt so that they could look for one or both of those."

"Why does he think that?" huffed Aunt Hermione. "These stories are so…"

"So were the Deathly Hallows," interrupted Uncle Ron.

"Yes, but they weren't actually _made by Death._"

"But they had enormous power," noted Harry. "Helio is trying to work out connections that may exist, even if they're not exactly what's described in the stories, like the Deathly Hallows. And we have to admit that, if we had to guess, it really looks like the Sandbloods are looking for Dismiusa. So it could very well be that the Sandbloods are also looking for other legends—maybe they figure that if they try to uncover all of the legends, at least one will be true. So even if the Pandoran Catalyst and the Hourglass Empire are purely legend, it's still very possible that the Sandbloods are looking for them. They won't find them if they're not real, but they still might be _looking,_ because as of yet, no one knows whether they really are."

"Who knows, they could be," said Uncle Ron with a neutral shrug.

"Rubbish," muttered Aunt Hermione.

"You're going to jinx them into being real if you keep denying the possibility," laughed Ginny.

"And I don't want to worry about any of that right now," said Harry. "I just want to worry about my family."

The Liner was surfacing; it had arrived at the house that belonged to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. Their house rested on a tiny island in the middle of a small stream; because of the targets painted on their backs by their involvement in the Second Wizarding War, no one could find the house except the Loch Stock Liner and immediate family members. The island ceased to exist to anyone observing from either side of the stream.

"Why don't you three disembark with us here?" offered Aunt Hermione.

"Yeah, good idea," said Uncle Ron. "We'd love to house you for a while. Then you don't have to ride the Loch Stock Liner to two hundred different houses before yours."

"Want to stay with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione?" asked Ginny.

Albus nodded happily, and his parents followed him out of the Liner's cabin and into the daylight.

It was hard to realize how much he appreciated seeing daylight until he had several times been under the impression that he might never see it again. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to enjoy life. Not everyone had so much time to enjoy it.

O

Unfortunately, Albus's Patronus did not make a reappearance. He had suspected it wouldn't be easy, but he didn't expect he would get no results at all. He wondered if In Extremis had once again surfaced in some small amount and allowed him to produce his Patronus, or if it was simply the spur of the moment. His father said they'd be practicing his Patronus over the summer, though, so perhaps he would be able to get it back.

"You ready for the last task of the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Harry, bumping Albus on the arm as they stood in wait for the Liner.

"Definitely," said Albus.

He also couldn't wait to see Janelle again.

Harry checked his watch, and then tapped his wand on the surface of the stream three more times; the Liner had not shown up.

"I wonder what the delay is for." Harry frowned.

After another minute of waiting, he tapped his wand three more times.

"I really hope nothing happened to the Liner," said Albus. They'd been traveling with the boat so many times already… He hoped that the appearance of the Liner in the midst of Sandbloods didn't give them a way to track it and attack it.

"Wait, what's that?" asked Harry, pointing at the water.

Something was coming up, but it wasn't the dark form he usually saw under the water to herald the appearance of the Liner—it was a light—a Patronus.

A kangaroo burst through the surface of the water without a splash, bouncing onto the shore behind Harry and Albus. They turned, and it spoke with a thick Australian accent.

"Harry Potter! Saw that you were heralding the Liner! Can't come right now—it's an emergency. We've tracked another Sandblood ship. It's heading along the same coordinates and there's even more magic stored on this ship than the last. We're stealthily tracking the ship right now to see if we can figure out what's on board. It's something big. I hope you'll forgive this inconvenience."

Harry looked over at Albus, his eyebrow raised high. Then it fell again.

"Oh, no," he said, biting his lip. "I'm not sure we can get to Beauxbatons in time for the task."

"Tracking down the Sandbloods is far more important," said Albus quickly.

Harry's shoulders dropped, but he patted Albus on the back. "We can probably make the end of the task if we hurry—we'll Apparate close and grab public transportation, it's always running to and from the tournament, even during the task."

Albus took his father's hand and held his breath.

"Best not to hold your breath too deep," said Harry. "The sensation of getting that breath squeezed out of you is not very pleasant."

Albus nodded and let some breath out; they turned on the spot and disappeared.

O

Albus and Harry rushed to the hidden door and entered the Triwizard Tournament arena to the sound of a raging river. They ran to a platform that overlooked the arena, and saw gushing rapids flowing through the center of the arena. All of the champions were simply trying to reach the other side—but it wasn't so easy. River monsters grabbed at their legs at every turn, and sometimes waves appeared from nowhere and crashed on top of them—and part of the river sometimes broke away and formed a current that twisted through the air. All of this was combined with the fact that the contestants could attack each other to make the task much slower than expected, since the rapids were only about two hundred feet long.

Despite the fact that Donna Lombard had started the course at a further point than her opponents due to her successes in the previous round, she was even with Rona, and Caspar was slightly ahead of both of them. He was chugging along, freezing the river in front of him, and making slow but steady progress; Rona and Donna always seemed to be gaining on him, but fell back more often from the obstacles.

They had reached the very tail end of the event. Albus looked over to the seats where he would have been sitting; Janelle was gripping the front railing, white-knuckled and white-faced as she cheered for her sister; next to her was Louis, who was gripping the railing with the same intensity.

Albus jogged down to meet them with his father in tow, but before he got all the way down the stairs, Caspar made a diving leap and he seized the Triwizard Cup which was floating at the start of the rapids, and immediately, the water flow ceased.

The Durmstrang crowd in the audience burst into cheers. Caspar jumped up on a block of ice and, his face glowing, he lifted up the dazzling Triwizard Cup.

Albus looked over to see Janelle's reaction, feeling bad that her sister had lost as well as the fact that his school's champion had not been victorious either—and was shocked to see that Louis was jumping up and down and screaming in excitement.

Caspar froze the surface of the water and sprinted along it at top speed, in a beeline straight towards Louis. He leapt out of the arena and landed right in front of Louis, and they threw their arms around each other and locked in a passionate kiss.

Albus stared, completely thrown for a loop by this sudden occurrence—but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He thought about Louis's mood swings and general odd behavior, and about how Gil had been so shocked when he pieced together what was bothering Louis.

"Ah," said Harry. "Okay. I was wondering about that."

"You were?"

"Oh, yes. Bill said Louis was seeing Caspar every other weekend, and I'd heard that Caspar boycotted the Yule Ball because they wouldn't let him go with… a boy."

"They didn't want him to bring a boy?"

"It's more complicated than whether they wanted him to," explained Harry. "I don't think Professor Vintervolff has a problem with the preferences of any one of his students, but I think he was worried about the _figurehead_ of their school bringing a member of the same sex to the ball. It was probably just Vintervolff's worry that… since Caspar was the champion of their school, he is representing the whole of Durmstrang. Vintervolff probably imagined that representing the whole school with a gay relationship might not be a good idea, since not everyone approves of it. Caspar and Louis together at the ball itself, not just in general, would have been a statement that Durmstrang approves."

"No it wouldn't," observed Albus. "It would have been a statement that they like each other and they want to be around each other because of love. Why would it have to be a statement that anyone approves or disapproves?"

"I agree with you," said Harry. "And I think that a good percentage of people nowadays agree with you as well, which is why it was such a controversy. But the prospect isn't so bleak. In fact, if you listen closely right now, I bet your mood will be lifted."

Until Caspar and Louis had embraced, the cheers had only been from the Durmstrang crowd. The two schools whose champions had lost were downcast and defeated, and there had even been a hint of animosity—something that the new Triwizard Tournament had partially been instituted to eliminate. But now, most of the crowd was cheering. People from all schools and all corners of the world were celebrating, and everyone was coming together in exactly the way Wilcox had hoped.

"That's the sound of love," said Harry, taking a deep, satisfied breath.

Albus finished his journey to Janelle. He looked up higher in the stands and saw his mentor Gil clapping the hardest. He was very glad that Gil could be happy for Louis, but at the same time, he felt bad; he wondered if Louis had ever known how Gil felt for him, or if that had never been mentioned because of the implications of the subject. He thought Gil and Louis would make a great couple—but it could still happen, if Louis didn't stay with Caspar. But he wouldn't wish a breakup upon them. In general, he just wanted what would make everyone happy.

"Rita Skeeter's going to have a field day," said Uncle Bill, who had arrived at his son's side.

"She's still writing?" asked James, who had descended from the higher stands as well. "Hey, Al. What've you been up to?"

"Tell you later," said Albus with a wink.

Louis and Caspar started up a conversation with the family, their arms around each others' waists, both looking happier than Albus had ever seen them; the mood was infectious, and he found himself smiling.

To top it all off, Rose came barreling down the stairs to tell Albus that since he'd been out, she'd heard Holly bragging to her friends about how she'd turned Albus against Janelle by lying about Janelle's motives—as Albus suspected, her story about Janelle ceasing her sobbing immediately upon leaving the room was a lie.

Albus finally walked up to Janelle, and their eyes locked. Not a word needed to be said—she descended upon him, and they were kissing as passionately as Louis and Caspar. All of the words that might have been said through letters and even face-to-face conversations were much more effectively said through this intimate contact. He felt that only one sentence could have been better than the kiss he shared, and as it turned out, Janelle eventually said it.

"Would you like to come visit me over the summer?"

O

Albus rode on the Subterrestrial Express back to Hogwarts to collect his belongings. On the way back, he took a compartment that was near the back, made sure that only Aidan, Alec, and Exo were with him, and he disclosed to them the events that had taken place at the Sandblood base. He found himself thrilled with the fact that he finally had a story to tell an audience, and he hoped it wouldn't go to his head and make him want to have more dangerous adventures to talk about.

The most disappointing part of the story was that his mission had appeared to amount to nothing—but that, after Albus learned from his father after collecting his belongings, was no longer the case.

The Loch Stock Liner had finished its mission, and Harry was going to take his kids home using the Liner; he still didn't trust leaving them on the Hogwarts Express. Lily skipped along in front of Albus as they approached the Black Lake, turning around and skipping backwards as she chatted with him.

"I hear you got your Patronus!" she said.

"Yeah, once," said Albus. "It was a coyote. That's what Aunt Hermione says. We'll have to make sure of that when I try it again over the summer. Did you ever get your Patronus?"

"No," said Lily with a frown. "Professor Desulgon says he's very sorry for stressing me out with that spell, but I liked it. It was fun. I was hoping for a cute little bunny or something as a Patronus that I could cuddle up with at night. Maybe I'll get one over the summer too."

"And don't tell Uncle Percy that I'm letting you practice it," said Harry. "Oh, and by the way, Albus… I found out what the Loch Stock Liner was doing when it was busy earlier."

"What's that?"

"The ship they were trailing was salvaging materials from the Sandblood base," said Harry. He looked extremely excited at this news. "You said that their magic-resistant metal is extremely costly to make, right?"

"Right."

"They wanted to rescue that metal rather than pay for new materials," said Harry. "So the Sandbloods sent their wizard puppets back to the base we—you—raided. They picked up the metal from their old base, so that they could rebuild it into their main base. And guess what's hidden inside some of that metal, which is getting built into their new walls at this very moment?"

Albus gasped. "The listening device I planted?"

"Exactly," said Harry, tapping his wand on the surface of the Black Lake three times as they arrived.

"Al planted a listening device?" asked James, confused. "What does that mean?"

"I'll tell you when we get home," said Harry as the water began to ripple and then swell.

The Loch Stock Liner burst dramatically as always from the lake, and the ladder was tossed over the side; it was a familiar sight that Albus was always happy to see.

As Albus climbed up the ladder and hoisted himself over the side of the ship, he gave one last look to his school before he was to depart for the next couple of months.

Something caught his eye, and he frowned.

"Wait," said Albus. "Does Hogwarts look… greener to you than usual right now?"

Harry looked back and tilted his head. "Hm. The trees and grass do look… a little thicker than I've seen, even for summer."

A low grumbling echoed across the surface of the Black Lake just before they disappeared through the door to the cabin.

* * *

_**So we hit 500 reviews on this story and the entire series is at a thousand as of the end of May! I couldn't have done it without you guys, of course. As a thank-you for letting everyone know you liked the story, I'm going to give you the chapter titles of Book 4, since the actual Book 4 might take a month or two to start uploading. (I'm working this summer, and I want to get a good number of chapters done before I start. Not being ahead stressed me out a lot this book.) Once it's up, weekly updates are guaranteed. And I'll let you know whether I might put up a review threshold for extra uploads-more than likely I'll upload an extra chapter for every 200 or so reviews the fourth book gets, as a bonus.**_

_**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Hope to see you in Book 4! Here is the layout.**_

* * *

ALBUS POTTER AND THE DESCENT OF DISMIUSA

CONTENTS

O

CHAPTER ONE

Seas of Sand

O

CHAPTER TWO

Aubrey and Chinch

O

CHAPTER THREE

Patronus and Patronization

O

CHAPTER FOUR

Greener Grasses

O

CHAPTER FIVE

The Creature

O

CHAPTER SIX

Some Reservations

O

CHAPTER SEVEN

First Snowfall

O

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Blank Letter

O

CHAPTER NINE

New Heights

O

CHAPTER TEN

Nothing to Worry About

O

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Descent

O

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dark Days

O

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Servants of Dismiusa

O

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Beating Around the Bush

O

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Forest Spirit

O

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Potters and Marauders

O

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Man with No Fingers

O

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

To the Roots

O

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Confrontation

O

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Final Secrets

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Hat Tricks

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Castle Catacombs

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Fall

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Season's End

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Moutohora

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Cure

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Reflections


	19. Notes and preview of Book 4 Chapter 1

_**Hello! Two pieces of news. Firstly, Albus Potter and the Descent of Dismiusa, Book 4, will begin its uploads sometime next month. I will upload the first chapter, maybe the second, and maybe the third, in two or three week intervals, until I feel sure I can safely, stress-free-ly upload one a week. Secondly**__**, while you wait, I've decided to upload a preview of the first chapter of Book 4. I hope you enjoy!**_

_**-Cody**_

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

SEAS OF SAND

O

A firm hand wound its way around the long locks of her carefully styled hair; she sighed and leaned into the touch. It was part of the plan—it had to be done—but still, she dreaded how long it would be before that hand curled itself in her hair again.

"Slade didn't make any mistakes, did he?" she breathed against his chest.

"Caradoc Slade is the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic," said her husband soothingly. "He's in the loop. He knows everyone, and he knows what's going on. That's what makes Slade such a valuable asset to the Sandblood cause."

"He's a wizard. And he's not under the Marionette's Medicine. Are we sure we can trust him?"

"We have to conserve our supplies of MM. And if Palmer Viller trusts Slade, then I trust Slade."

"But Viller is just waiting for his opportunity to stab Slade in the back," said the wife. "Don't you think Slade would have figured that out by now?"

"Viller will have compensated for it," said the husband. "In fact, I think Malseth's death may have been fortunate, all things considered."

"How so?"

"Malseth was brilliant, but Viller is craftier. Malseth had a hard time convincing Slade that we weren't going to gun him down once we got what we wanted from him. But Viller was always clever with him. Now that Malseth is gone, Slade answers to someone he trusts even more than he trusted Malseth." His hand relieved itself from her hair and slid its way down her chest. "I must admit… I was quite nervous about the future of the cause when Malseth expired. But Viller has taken up the mantle with more aggression than Malseth ever brought, and this plan of ours is going to get us the recognition Malseth lost us. Are you ready to be our bait to land a big fish?"

"I am," replied the woman. "As long as you promise to rescue me."

"We know, through Slade, the precise location of the area you will be taken for questioning if you are captured," said the man. "All we have to do is make sure they capture you. Then you bust out, using Marsilia Scadjair's personal secret weapon to kill Gerald Stenet. Then we arrive and whisk you away, back to freedom, leaving the Head of the Auror Office dead and the denizens of the magical world in utter shock. We'll only be apart for a short time. It might even be as short as a single day before they question you."

"Whatever the duration, you will have to make up the time to me."

"Of course I will. You know how I love you. But for now, let us focus on the plan; you are to be captured tomorrow morning, after all. You have Scadjair's weapon?"

The woman held up her hand, showing her husband her fingernails, which were painted a deep red-violet. The nails were sharp and pointed. "I suck on the nails, and the poisonous nail polish will react with my saliva to become active again; one scratch of my claws and the Head of the Auror Office keels over dead in five seconds."

"Then that's all you need. Of course, the dazzling good looks can't hurt your chances of drawing him close enough to strike."

The couple kissed, long enough to last the short time they would be apart.

"Time to get me captured," said the wife, grinning widely.

O

There was nothing but sand. He was flying high, miles above the ground, but still, sand was all he could see in every direction. Seas of sand were covering everything.

He looked down. It was important—necessary—that he find something which was not sand. It had to be done immediately, as fast as possible, and his eyes raked the ground desperately; lives were hanging in the balance.

A small speck of stone caught his eye. What was it? It was square, short and not very wide, but it wasn't sand, so he flew towards it, speeding towards the ground; he had to find out what this was. Could this stone slab be of any help?

But as he flew towards the rock, something strange happened. The seas of sand grew darker; clouds formed overhead, and it started to rain, but it was raining sand. Gusts of wind blew towards the stone, and the sea of sand below him started to swirl like a whirlpool, sucking him in.

He turned around; this was bad, he couldn't go down there. But the whirlpool was dragging him down, out of the sky, and soon he was pulled below the crashing waves and disappeared below the surface, swallowed by the seas of sand.

Albus sat up in bed, panting heavily and patting himself to make sure he was all there and not covered in sand. What a nightmare… He'd never had one like that before. The memory stood fresh in his mind: his hand disappearing below the tide of sand. What did it mean? That is, if it actually meant anything. It could have been just a dream.

But it didn't feel that way.

Glancing around, he discovered that his father was now standing in the doorway, looking in.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry. "You were making sounds in here."

"Just a bad dream," replied Albus.

"Ah. Reliving a terrible memory?"

"It's not a memory," said Albus, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, let me or your mother know if it continues."

"Sorry to concern you."

"I was coming in here to wake you up anyway," said Harry. "I want you to see something really great as it's happening. Do you want to come with the Auror Office to see us question one of the Sandbloods' top commanders?"

"You got someone?" exclaimed Albus, sitting up so fast in his bed that he almost ended up standing.

"We've captured Coral Envix," said Harry with a grin. "It was almost too easy to get her; we'd heard a leaked Sandblood trail telling us exactly where she would be. We're taking her in to a secure location for questioning; Geri Stenet himself is going to help us get information out of her. This is going to be really exciting to watch; I wondered if you and James and Lily would like to come and see."

"I'd love to see," said Albus, leaping out of bed and running to his dresser to extract the day's clothes. "Thanks for offering!"

"No problem. I wouldn't want you to miss this; I think it'll be fascinating for you three to see how the Auror Office works."

"How far up the ladder was Coral Envix again?" asked James, poking his head into the room.

"She is currently fifth in command of the Sandblood regime… or, she was, until we captured her," answered Harry. "So she definitely knows a lot. We've known about her for a while; she was on the wanted list of the Ministry even before this all started. It's weird to see her finally in custody. Her fingernails are even redder and pointier in person."

"Now we've got her," said James, pumping a fist. "And she's not getting away."

"Definitely not," said Harry, smiling. "Let's go find out what she knows."

* * *

_**The rest of the first chapter will be coming some time before July arrives. Hope to see you all there!**_


End file.
